


Snowdrift

by knightora



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, But Not Much, Magic, Multi, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, a lot of winter, a lot...this is just a lot, and there are some regular humans in there too, jjj project shall reign...eventually, shadowy government organization, wendigos and demons and faeries oh my
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightora/pseuds/knightora
Summary: Jaebum sends Yugyeom, his brother, off to a cabin in the woods after an accident nobody seems to be able to remember.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i'm excited to share this work with you all!! written just for fun and then it got out of hand. anyhow, enjoy, i'll update fridays

Jungkook is all but a subtle reminder, besides the gentle warmth inside, it’s fucking cold.

  
Yugyeom hadn’t realized that at first, but most people wouldn’t bother. It’s what Mark had told him when he brought it up, some time ago about Jinyoung.

  
_“Mark-hyung, I’m just saying..isn’t something off..?”_

  
_“It’s your imagination.” He says, offering him a cup of hot chocolate. It’s cold, probably sat around too long. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.”_

  
_He takes the mug. Mark gives him a toothy smile. “Yeah, hyung, you must be right..”_

  
So, he didn’t question it when Jinyoung was gone the next day and Jaebum was in shambles.

  
A cabin in the woods. To be honest, Yugyeom couldn’t quite recall how he got here. Jaebum gave him a pitying smile, waving as he got out of the car with a half-dead phone, a stringy phone charger and a duffel bag. He knocked on the door, and as he turned around the car was gone, with no sign of his brother whatsoever over the bend, and gentle snowfall.

  
The door is open as he turns back, someone who appeared older than him staring up. “Yugyeom?” He asks,

  
Yugyeom nods. The man holds out his hand, “I’m Min Yoongi.” Yugyeom takes it. His grip is warm, it puts him at ease. “Yoongi is fine. Come in. You’re just on time.” He places his other arm around his shoulder and leads him inside, reaching over and shutting the door behind them. “Try to keep that closed. It’s terribly cold out here.”

  
Yugyeom blinks, “Sure.”

  
“This is where you’ll be staying. Free roam over the entire building, except the attic. Attempt to stay out of there. Of course, we understand if there are some negative influences. But, keep that in mind.”

  
Yugyeom nods again, his mind clouding up. Yoongi, with his arm locked around his shoulder begins leading him down a hallway. “Kitchen, living space, music room, bathrooms, breakfast nook and dining room.” He points out each area carefully.

  
As they head into the dining room, someone’s seated at the table..carving wood? He was leaning back in the chair, nearly against the wall with his feet atop the table.  
“ _Jungkook_ , didn’t we say we have a new guest?” Yoongi growls. The aforementioned looks up. He had slick, deep black hair that was just a little too long for Yugyeom’s tastes, and nearly souless dark eyes that matched it.

  
“I recall.” He says, somehow leaning back more. “I was making this for him.” He holds the carving up to Yugyeom. He can’t tell what it is. “Thought I’d be done before you came in here, though.”

  
Yoongi plasters on a plastic smile. “Lovely. Go to your room now.”

  
“I’m not finished.”

  
“Give it to him at _dinner_.” Yoongi snarls back. Jungkook drops his carving with a glare, standing up with a huff and walks out of the room. As he walks by, he grins at Yugyeom. He can see the pointed teeth.

  
Yoongi redirects him to the hallway, Jungkook nowhere to be seen. They head up a narrow flight of stairs to the second floor. At the end of the hallway he can see a third flight,  
“Those are to the attic. Remember what we said about that, hm?”

  
“Yeah.” Yugyeom nods, and Yoongi pats his back, gesturing to the various doors lining the hallway.

  
“These are the bedrooms. You’ll meet them all at dinner. Bathrooms-and your bedroom, are at the end of the hall.” They walk to a plain bedroom door, directly across from one with a painted X across it. Yoongi opens the plain one. “Here’s your room.”

  
It’s boring. A bed, a chair, a bookshelf, a couple of lamps, and a giant window that took up half of the back wall. Yoongi turns to leave, but Yugyeom whips around, “Where are the outlets?”

  
Yoongi doesn’t respond, waving a hand and closing the door.

  
Yugyeom gets on his knees at the feet of one of the lamps. It wasn’t plugged in. It didn’t have an outlet..How was it working, then?  
What did he just get into?

  
Later, Yugyeom sits atop his bed-he’s not sure of what to do. Not at all. He has a phone, but no way to charge it, so should he savor the battery, or just let it die?  
Could he try calling somebody? Maybe Bam...he’d help him, he always did...well, used to. His options are um, limited. His brother? He wishes he could talk to Jinyoung, because he always knows what to do, but, he can’t.

  
What to do, what to do...

  
He glances upwards to the clock on the wall. Each tick had been annoying him for the past, however long he’s been here, but the ticks give way to knocking, so he goes to open the door.

  
Min Yoongi. He had changed his clothing from earlier to something more casual, a fluffy cardigan that matched the weather’s mood. He smiles.  
“I see you’ve made yourself at home. It’s dinner, so, time to meet everybody and introduce yourself.” He gestures for Yugyeom to join him, and he does, following him out of the room and down the stairs,

  
Yugyeom has a question, but considering how it was answered the last time he asked, he probably shouldn’t bother.

  
Yoongi glances back at him, “Usually, we’d place you with a roommate, but we’re really at capacity. Maybe later, we can set you up with somebody, but we hope the room isn’t too lonely, so far.”

  
“Actually, do you have speakers for music or something? I think the clock is going to drive me insane.”

  
“We have record players.” Yoongi says, “I’ll see if we can get one for your room.”

  
Um...Okay...

  
They head down into the foyer, and back to the dining room from earlier. The same kid, Jungkook, is seated where he was, carving. There are several other people as well, all probably around his age, chatting.

  
“Stand. Introduce yourselves.” Yoongi commands. The others swerve around and move, immediately. Jungkook lags a bit behind and he can see the disapproval in Yoongi’s face.

  
Three girls glance between each other. One speaks up. She has remarkably long black hair, really dark eyes, and was noticeably pale. She dips her head and her hair covers her face so Yugyeom can’t really get a good look. “I’m Sooyoung..hello!” Her voice was really clear, he finds even her simple introduction endearing.

  
The one next to her, similar in looks, as in, black hair, though cut short, cuts in. “Everybody calls her Joy.” She gleans down at her nails, and back to Yugyeom. “I’m Yeri.”

  
The third girl had large glasses and her hair curled in a magnificent bun that snakes down her face. She smiles as well but Yugyeom feels like her features are blurred, avoiding eye contact with him, “Dahyun. Nice to meet you!”

  
The girls sit down and Yugyeom turns his attention to the others. The first to speak has really long bangs, but otherwise short dyed brown hair round features and a slight tan. His smile seemed the most genuine. “I’m Changkyun. Im Changkyun. I hope we can become friends.”

  
Changkyun looks over to the guy next to him, who bows immediately once eyes are on him. He’s a lot taller than Changkyun, so it’s kind of jarring, as are the pair of glasses fixed on his face. They didn’t really fit him like Dahyun’s did, though they seemed similar in awkwardness. “Hi..I’m,” He pauses, thinking. “Jaehyun.”

  
The man next to him doesn’t speak, but just nods at Yugyeom. He really didn’t notice him, beside Jaehyun, kind of fading into the shadows.

  
“That’s Dowoon. He doesn’t talk much.” The one next to him clarifies. “I’m Xiumin. Or Minseok. But I’ll snap your neck if you call me that. I instruct.”

  
Um. Okay. Finally, Yugyeom turns his attention on the one he did know, Jungkook, the one with the mischievous smile, cracked lips and dark eyes that had been waiting impatiently and tapping his foot the entire time.

  
He’s still staring at Yugyeom when Yoongi clears his throat and prods his side. Jungkook glares at him, and finally opens his mouth, “Did you know Yoongi can tell the future?” He asks. Yugyeom didn’t know shit, so, okay, “You should ask him for your fortune.”

  
The adult turns to glower at him, but Jungkook just won’t take his eyes off of Yugyeom, so he feels he has to reply, “Okay, tha-“

  
“I’m Jungkook. Hi.”

  
“Hi.” He rips his eyes off of him and gives a small wave to the rest of them, “My name is Yugyeom.” He wants to add, I’m not supposed to be here, but, what is here exactly?

  
“Beautiful. Let’s all be seated. We’ll be served shortly.” Yoongi says, and everybody goes back to their respective seats around the table, but Jungkook whispers something to Dowoon and suddenly there’s a free seat next to the oddly enamored Jungkook, so Yugyeom sits down.

  
Shortly was right, because as soon as Yugyeom settles in, a door is pushed open and a man carrying a pot, still with oven mits, bursts through. Every single hair is out of place, and it seems like he might drop it, but the pot clashes against the table, the side with Xiumin seated next to Yoongi, and only a little bit of liquid sloshes out.  
This guy. Now this guy makes him nervous. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and his heart speed up. Yoongi notices his staring and coughs. The chef glances over to Yugyeom.

  
“Oh! It’s you.” He puts on a smile. It’s normal enough, so why does he feel so disturbed? The off-putting feeling reminds him of his last couple of days at home. Just constantly on edge. “I’m Namjoon, hello.” He swallows and manages a nod. Namjoon’s grin gets wider and he turns away, “I’ll join you all in a second, hold on.”

  
Jungkook is staring at him again. He’s this close to telling him to knock it off, but this so-called-Namjoon left a bad feeling in his chest. Jungkook places his head in his palm, presenting his creepy-toothy grin, “Oh, Namjoon. Isn’t he so cute? Don’t you just wanna devour him?”

  
Yoongi’s gaze is immediately on them. “Jungkook. Manners. I apologize, Yugyeom. He is always like this.” He mutters, just as Namjoon re-enters and places plates of what Yugyeom thinks is raw meat-but he could be wrong, it could be badly cooked in front of Yeri and Jungkook, who starts picking at it, finally pulling his eyes off of Yugyeom. Namjoon slides into a seat next to Yoongi, and dinner begins.

  
Afterwards Yoongi walks him to his room, explaining that independence will come gradually. Yugyeom couldn’t understand why he couldn’t talk with the others a bit more, but as he opens the door there’s a new table in the middle, a old school record player and a box of records atop his bed.

  
Huh. Okay.

  
Yoongi smiles at him, perfect teeth and all. “The clock shouldn’t drive you crazy now. Curfew is in an hour, so all lights and music off. I’ll trust you can follow the most basic of rules.”

  
And he’s alone. With a record player.

  
Yugyeom’s always found comfort in music, even in these trash ass smooth jazz selections whomever stuffed into his room. He can enjoy it. It fits the mood, because the window is sorta frozen over and he can see snow falling softly outdoors. He wishes he had something to properly sketch with, to properly remember the scene, convey it’s quiet, frozen beauty with melodic overtures. But all he has are a few loose papers and scattered pencils.

  
He was always a cold weather guy, too. He’d rather be cold than hot, and he wants to explore the mountaintop he’s been left on, but considering Yoongi walked him to his room, rules are strict. And the iron bars that Yugyeom had caught on one of the back doors out the cabin, the same on the attic doors, made him, probably too nervous. So the only option was the front door and...He’ll just listen to the damned smooth jazz, picking out his notebook and sketching. He likes wings, beautiful over-detailed, too complicated to fly with, but amazing to draw. He’s not sure if he’d like to fly, he’s always been a little too grounded but maybe if he stuck his head in the clouds...

  
The hour winds down and Yugyeom has to search for his pajamas. They were a pair that Jinyoung had bought him for Christmas once. He liked them very much. And were a great reminder that he still didn’t know where Jinyoung went.

  
Out of his brother’s friends, Jinyoung was definitely his favourite because he didn’t treat him strangely and, well...Well, whatever.  
The clocks inane ticking resumes as he stops the record player, and turns off the lamp. It may not have an outlet, but it had a switch. He’s not sure at all how he’s going to sleep with the clock’s _tick tick ticking_ , and he’s been tossing for, only the clock knows how long when there’s quiet tapping against his door.

  
He springs up immediately, that’s how desperate he was for a different noise. He wanders to the door as the tapping continues, and finally opens it-slightly enough to peek out, only to be faced with,

  
Well, who else would it be?

  
Jungkook stares up at him, same meaningless smile. “Lemme in. Come on, don’t just stand there.” He whispers, a hand on the door, beckoning Yugyeom to open it.  
He does so, not really thinking about it, and Jungkook closes it behind him.

  
Being alone in the dark with this creep makes him worried, and the only thing keeping him from attempting to jump out the window are, A) The iron bars framing the drawn back curtains that make him incessantly uncomfortable, and B) He wasn’t going unless he could bring his luggage, too. Those are good clothes.

  
Despite Yugyeom glaring him down, Jungkook looks across the room, and finally settles on his bed, kicking back and forth. “My room is across from yours.” He explains, and then focuses his gaze on the clock, “That thing is annoying.”

  
“What are you?” Yugyeom asks. Jungkook tears his eyes off the clock and to Yugyeom. The uncomfortable feeling comes back, but nothing was as bad as the unsettling feeling Namjoon had given him, so he handles it. Yugyeom knew supernatural creatures...people existed, just, many were in exile, and this place was so strange, no way this guy was normal. Any of them, really. He’s obviously been put in the wrong place...

  
“What am I? What are you? I can’t pin you down.” He stands and is back in Yugyeom’s personal space in seconds. He reaches a hand out for his arm, but Yugyeom flinches away, “You barely said anything at dinner, and I wanna know more. Tell me.”

  
The hell is this shit? “I’m human..I’m not fucking-”

  
“Sure, you are. The energy’s all wrong.” Jungkook grasps his other hand, too quickly for Yugyeom to shy away, and brings it right to his lips. His hands were cold. His lips were cold. “Besides, I don’t wanna eat you, so you’re obviously not human. At least...not fully.”

  
The fuck? What the fuck? Was this an elaborate prank by Jaebum, or has a god finally forsaken him and placed him in a personal hell?

  
Jungkook sighs, and drops his hand, “Do you know how hard it is to just not attack Namjoon? Yoongi really is a cruel god.”

  
Whaaat the fuck, what the fuck-

  
“Yugyeom?”

  
He’ll ask again, “What are you?”

  
“Seriously? Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?”

  
“My brother takes care of me.” Yeah, and the same brother who just, shipped him away...Oh, goddamn.

  
“I _nteresting!_ ” Jungkook exclaims. Yugyeom tries not to snarl. “Ooh, feisty. I wonder just what you are,” He hums, “Let’s do something.”

  
“Do something?” They were supposed to be sleeping. “Something like what?”

  
“Let’s go outside.” He pauses, “Wait, the cold might harm your human sensibilities. Hmmm...I guess we should-“

  
“I like the cold-“

  
“You do?” He laughs, “Do you know how cold it is out there?”

  
“I’d just need my coat...” He mutters, Jungkook laughs again and clasps his shoulder.

  
“Let’s try it. Get your coat and follow me. Be quiet.” He walks right out of the room, and Yugyeom scrambles for his coat, that luckily, he had tossed into a chair by the door and heads out the room, shutting it behind him. Jungkook was just a few feet ahead.

  
As it turns out they’re just heading out the front door. Yugyeom gets a feeling he shouldn’t trust these people so easily, but it’s not like he lied, he just wasn’t...clear?  
He steps outside and immediately starts shivering, and the snow is suffocating. This was more than cold..but he couldn’t decipher it. Jungkook, however, still in his pajamas and barefoot, seemed to relish in it, spreading his arms, smiling.

  
He glances back to him, “I have a place to show you.”

  
“What? Why...” Yugyeom heads forward, but Jungkook beats him to it, already by his side.

  
“Hmm, you’re cold, so that knocks out some options.” He muses, and then grabs his arm. “You won’t freeze as long as you’re with me.”

  
The cabin actually did have a pathway, swallowed by snow. Jungkook seemed to know where he was going anyways and they start to head down the hill into the wintery brush. The sky was pitch black, excluding two visible stars, which Yugyeom finds strange because they were definitely into the country, but he doesn’t dwell on it.  
At the bottom of the hill is a small forest and Jungkook leads him into it. Despite his promise that Yugyeom wouldn’t freeze, he couldn’t feel his hands and they weren’t out for that long, either. Not that he’s paying attention to the passage of time, a little difficult with an unidentifiable sky. If he were considering escaping under the cover of night, he’d need an elaborate plan.

  
As they wander through the forest, they finally come across a clearing, with a small frozen lake in the middle. The only light, as supplied by the moon, shone through, hitting the ice, and wow

  
Jungkook lets go of his arm, finally, and Yugyeom strangely enough feels warmth flowing back in. His companion turns back to him, and Yugyeom realizes this is his element. Inside, with the surrounding warmth, and incessant heat, he stuck out, uncomfortable and it showed. However, walking barefoot in the snow through the moonlight, it suddenly didn’t seem that uncertainty was possible for him. His dark eyes, that were way too dark inside had a pretty shine against the glimmer of the snow, and his awkward in-between hair clung to the shadows and accentuated his, unexpectedly sharp cheekbones. It’s just...

  
“Wow...”

  
He’s staring, though, because Jungkook is staring back, similar in wonder. He looks away first, turning to the clearing and lake.

  
“Come look at this-“ Their fingers brush together as he points upwards, the hole in the clearing, “This is the only place you can see the moon.”

  
And it’s beautiful indeed, the icy-blue undertones surrounding them blending with the silver and darkness of the surrounding trees, the snow with a subtle blue glow and the lake a perfect crystal reflection. They approach the bank of the lake, the chill really taking over his body, finding it harder to move.

  
He really just wants to touch the ice, though, it’s reflection is off, lowering himself to the ground as Jungkook watches, reaching out, and...and...

  
Yugyeom wakes up cold, to the clock’s ticking. And he’s confused, because, how did he get back here? Was he dreaming? No...

  
There’s a tick-no, a knock, against the door, and he sits up, running a hand through his hair. It’s messy, and he needed a haircut. He pulls at it and a few white strands fall out. That’s...weird.

  
The knock sounds again, “Yugyeom? It’s Yoongi. Breakfast in five, okay?”

  
He springs out of bed and searches for something. Anything. Not too difficult because, luckily, all his clothes are clean and he can walk out of the room with two minutes to spare and Sooyoung, the one with the clear voice with her ear to his door.

  
She hops away as it opens, hair in her face, but Yugyeom can piece it together.

  
“Hi!” She breathes, “Er, um, good morning.”

  
“Good morning?”

  
She points upwards, “Your hair...”

  
His hair...He pulls at it again, “What about it?”

  
“It’s um...” She shakes her head, “It’s not that noticeable. Let’s go down to breakfast.” She gestures for him to go in front of her, and they head down the hallway. She’s looking at him, but Yugyeom avoids her gaze, planting his eyes to the ground.

  
It’s quiet when they reach the stairs, but, “Soo...” She hums, “Like, what are you?”

  
“What are you?” He asks sharply. She bobs her head again, hair flying, hopping down the stairs and glancing at him,

  
“Part banshee. From my momma’s side.” They reach the bottom of the stairwell, and she grabs on to the banister, crossing her legs over, holding the top, “Can’t _scream_ , but I can predict death!” She waves her hand, her hair falls in her face again. She doesn’t even make a move to adjust it, “Your turn, fresh meat.”

  
She’s supposedly a banshee...but she can’t do the one thing banshees are known for? Okay...He jumps from a stair up and lands, walking right past her. She twirls on the banister to face him, “I’m human, as far as I know.” He turns to grin at her, but she’s already hopped off and returned to his side,

  
“Human, huh? Don’t let the wendigo know.” She walks ahead of him, to the aforementioned breakfast nook, muttering some things he can’t catch, but he does hear, “Human with a frozen streak _Elsa_ would be jealous of.” She snickers at her joke, continuing on.

  
He heads into the room, and there are a few missing people, but it seems to be the same set up from dinner. Yeri and Changkyun aren’t there, but Jungkook’s face lights up as soon as he enters.

  
He leans forward, resting his face in his palm as soon as Yugyeom sits, “Have a good night?”

  
Speaking of, “What the hell happened, last night?” He whispers, leaning in close, and Jungkook only gives him a toothy grin,

“I had a brilliant dream. You were there.” His grin gets wider and he finally tears his eyes off of his face, “Huh. That wasn’t there last night.”

  
“Is it the hair?” He groans. Jungkook nods. He pushes out of his chair, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

  
“Aww—wait—“

  
The bathroom was cleaner than expected for a couple of teenagers and however old Yoongi, Namjoon and Xiumin were. He gets to the mirror and stares. He analyzes his face, first, because he’s a little worried about what could have happened to his hair. He looks. Exactly the same to yesterday. Maybe a little sleep deprived because he felt like he didn’t get a good night’s rest, at least. He looks a day older. Now, his hair,

  
“I look like the goddamned bride of Frankenstien...” He mutters, getting closer and pulling. One, solid, white strip to the side where he’d usually part his bangs. “What the hell is this...?”

//

  
Jaebum’s been in this phone booth for an hour now. He had one number to try, and he never picked up, but why not try now? He needed somebody...He needed answers. Maybe, he’s being a bit extreme. But...

  
His car is parked outside, on the road. He’s kind of in the middle of nowhere. Since yesterday. He stopped off at home, after Yugyeom a shift at that hellhole of a diner, and drove right back out to the mountains under night cover, to the first pay phone he saw, for no particular reason other than it felt closer...to everything he missed, heavenly mountains be dammed.

  
It was early morning, so peaks of sunlight were starting to appear over the horizon of the mountain range and also he had been in this phone booth for an hour. Sitting.  
It wasn’t the cold that was getting to him-he was a natural furnace. It was the audacity.

  
Put a curse on him-no, not even him, his family, and now you won’t even pick up? He had to have something to do with it—Smooth moves, Nephilim. A curse, not in the literal sense, no, he couldn’t possibly manage that, right, but...nothing’s been right since he left.

  
He couldn’t stand to be at his house, right now. Too many bad memories, and too many things that would make him sad. God, he’s pathetic.

  
He sighs, dropping the phone off the line and slumping against the glass wall. Empty home, empty life. There’s a low fog hanging, perhaps due to the humidity. Perhaps something else. Maybe if he took a few steps, he could disappear into another realm. A parallel universe where he was normal would be great, thanks. He didn’t have to drive all the way out here for a phone call, but he just feels drawn to these, empty, lonely spaces where anything can happen with just a bit of magic. At night, when the moon finally rises, who knows what universe you’d be thrust into?

  
Once again, hoping for a good old parallel universe where he was normal. Maybe, with those little things needed for perfection. Like nice weather, or a steady income.

  
The line’s beeping knocks him straight out of his trance as it swings by him. That means...

  
He yanks the cord to him and puts the phone to his ear, “My love, you’ve called. What is it you wish?”

  
“Cut it out. What game are you playing?” He mutters, there’s a laugh. “God, you’re so dramatic.”

  
“Thank you.” He can just see the smile curling upwards. A little sinister a little too sweet to be convincing.

  
He tries again, but he knows affection is bleeding through his voice. “Please tell me what you want. What you know.”

  
“Nothing much, only everything you’ve taken from me. I just want to...to...” He doesn’t finish, pausing, but continues with no issue. “...is that so bad?” The voice growls. Jaebum draws back from the phone, cringing at the pure hatred slipping out.

  
“The fuck is this Shakespearean drama you’re putting on?  Jinyoung...”

  
The voice groans. Jaebum knows he’s rolling his eyes. That cute way, when his nose wrinkles up too.“Jaebum...you’ve ruined me. Let me have this, you dick. I want you to be empty.”

  
“How is your fall, my fault? You’re straight delusional. I thought you were dead, and here you are. Playing god.” He says, and Jinyoung scoffs over the end, so he’ll change his approach. “Listen, fine. Shit talk me, but what did you do to my brother?” He breathes, “He was fine. What did you do?”

  
“Nothing that wouldn’t have happened. Your bloodline is poison. You know this. There’s nothing wrong with speeding up the process. All you need is the right catalyst. You know that well, don’t you?”

  
He’s done his best at trying to internalize his heartbreak, but Jinyoung talking like this...it hurts, it really does. “You’ve...you’ve really fucking lost it.” He says, half believing.

  
“Oh, like I haven’t heard that before. You’re so clever, you devil.”

  
“Jinyoung...” He sighs, leaning back onto the glass, pressing maybe too hard to be comfortable. “You need help.”

  
“Do you know what I’ve gone through for you, you _goddamn_ —do you even—forget it.” His voice has a deadly bite Jaebum knows he couldn’t dream of imitating. And that he...well, none of this seems like Jinyoung—his Jinyoung, none of it, but...

  
He wants to say something like, I miss you. But that probably wouldn’t play out in his favor. God, he hates being toyed with like this. Jinyoung could just play him like a game, still. “If you hate me so much-“

  
“ _Hate you?_ On the contrary. I...” He stops, taking in a short breath, like even he’s surprised at his words. Jaebum nearly drops the phone from his hands. His words draw up deep, deep feelings in his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with. He’d like to lock it away, but Jinyoung comes back with a silky laugh that stops his heart again, disbelieving, a little unhinged. “Love you. I guess I still love you. Do you love me too?”

  
It’s quiet, save for their breathing. Jaebum murmurs into the receiver, “Do you see the sunrise?”

  
The line goes dead. He’s alone again.

//

  
Yugyeom’s not happy and it shows when he re-enters the dining room, only to be faced with a full table. Excluding Yeri. Changkyun was face first against the table, and Namjoon was serving...waffles?

  
Jungkook looks absolutely disgusted, poking at it with his fork as Yugyeom sits down. As he sits, he notices that Yoongi actually wasn’t there, and it was another guy chatting to Namjoon as he buzzed around the table.

  
Namjoon finally breaks, “Hobi, could you go sit somewhere? I’m glad you’re visiting but...”

  
The other man frowns, looking away, “Oh! No..totally, I’m sorry.” He lifts his gaze towards Jungkook and Yugyeom, “Whose this?”

  
The chef glances over, “That’s just Yugyeom. We got him yesterday.”

  
He bounces to them over as soon as Namjoon finishes the sentence, sticking out his hand. “Jung Hoseok, clairvoyant at your service. I didn’t see you at all, you curious little creature.” Weird. He leans downwards, “Just what are you?”

  
Jungkook also invades his personal space, but in defense. “Hyung, you fuckin’ creep. Mine. Leave him alone.”

  
He laughs immediately, drawing away at glancing to Namjoon. “Mine? Are you teaching these kids how to share?”

  
“You know how his type is. Leave it alone, he’s a good kid.” He mutters, passing to Yugyeom and placing something on his plate. He suddenly feels a chill, remembering how uncomfortable Namjoon had made him, though he seemed like a kind guy.

  
“My type?” Jungkook slams his hands on the table, “That’s rude, take it back.”

  
“He’s defending you, brat.” A new voice chimes in, belonging to Xiumin as he enters, hair still unkempt and clearly tired. “You should learn to control that icy temper of yours.”

  
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” He shoots back and Xiumin immediately growls,

  
“Listen here, you little-“

  
Dahyun holds up a hand, curls falling down her face, “Please, no fighting at breakfast. I just wanna eat.”

  
Changkyun chimes in, voice muffled by the table “Seconded.”

  
Xiumin exhales, and Yugyeom swears he can see smoke, but that ends the argument as he sits and Jungkook leans back into his seat. Hoseok glances between the three, before returning to Namjoon, pestering him once again.

  
Yoongi eventually appears, hair combed and composed, but with deep bags under his eyes. “Good morning, everybody. Let’s get right into it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all are ready for ticketing tomorrow, (my north americans, good luck!)  
> chapter 2!!! exciting!!! i hope y'all all enjoy  
> i don't stay in one perspective at all...think of it more like a TV show?

Jaebum pulls out his phone and scrolls, finding the number but punching it into the payphone. He could try using his phone, but he only had two bars, and this phone booth seemed to be lucky enough. He has enough coins for obsolete technology.

It’s been about an hour since his first call. In that time, he saw several deer climb out of the forest, and one pickup truck drive by, slow down, and keep going. Jinyoung actually picking up and talking to him must have affected him more than anticipated, and the hour was spent pushing down unwanted feelings but his throat was still tight.

The phone buzzes, a voice chimes through, “Hello? Who is this?”

“It’s JB. Hi.”

“ _Jaebum_? For what do I owe this pleasure? I’ve missed you...we should meet up.” The voice chatters, “I thought our schedules just clashed, but hey, did you know when you go overseas, your phone—"

He tries to interrupt, “I want t—"

“How’s Yugyeom? I missed him too! I missed all of you. Bring him when we meet.”

“Seun, please.” He sighs, “About Yugyeom, that’s why I was calling. Are you in town?” Considering he picked up, probably, but it doesn't hurt to ask.  Jackson is a bit mysterious like that, very focused on his work, and friends at the same time. It's amazing he hasn't dropped dead from exhaustion, but Jackson at the same time is a person who wouldn't mention anything, from fear of causing an inconvenience.  It's extremely frustrating. 

“ _For_ the next seventy-two hours, my love.” There’s that word again. At least Jackson isn’t trying to ruin his life, so it doesn’t sting.

“Can I see you in an hour at that café you like?”

“ _Of course_! I’m so excited. Don’t skirt me on the bill, okay? See you soon, XO~”

He places the telephone back on it’s hook and finally climbs out of the booth.

 

//

 

After breakfast, everybody breaks off, leaving only Yugyeom and Yoongi. He leads him off to another room, which Yugyeom assumes is some sort of office.

The room is significantly colder than others, by feeling alone even though there’s a fire crackling in the corner. The curtains are drawn, but even then, slivers of snow peak through, blinding him.

There’s a large desk, but Yoongi leads him to two parallel chairs, by the window, by the fireplace, gesturing for him to sit.

His first question catches him off guard, “Did you have a good night?”

He can’t tell by expression is he knows or not, so Yugyeom just nods and gulps.

“Nice hair.” He comments. Yugyeom snaps forward, maybe a little too fast,

“Do you know what happened to me? Who the fuck—I mean, er, frick—just  goes all Frankenstein?”

“No clue.” He leans back and away from Yugyeom, easing into his chair. “I need something from you, if you won’t mind.” He nods with some hesitation, and Yoongi continues. “Can you tell me, in detail, what happened to you, last week?”

Oh...it’s hard to recall...

Well, Yugyeom had found that, um, school wasn’t meant for him as his teacher gave him, a _literal_ negative two on his test. Okay. Exaggeration, but what is a thirty-two worth? She took two points, from the slightly better thirty-four because he had forgotten to write the date, it might as well be negative. His failure was a combination of his own shortcomings and laziness, but his teacher definitely had a hand in this.

And it was totally _not_ fair. So, maybe, he started cursing out his teacher. Jaebum never gave a fuck about language, and he didn’t quite care, either. Then, this fucking disgrace of a classmate opened his big mouth and then he was pinned down by a security guard for ‘getting too violent’, but he doesn’t remember what he _did_ to be ‘violent’, and his brother ran into the principal’s office still in his work clothes.

Jaebum worked like, four different jobs or whatever. Something around that number but today’s flavor was his bartending apron, nametag, and left-over glitter from his night shift, looking messy and smelling like alcohol. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home, just because he fell asleep at the bar and his coworker didn’t wake him up and that seemed to be the case, today.

That is to say, it’s not a good look, or case for Yugyeom.

Suspended for a month. The principal sends him outside while he talks to Jaebum, and because the day could get worse, Bam just appears out of nowhere, with his girlfriend, probably. What was her name again? Why can’t he remember...? It’s a haze...

Bam has this indefinitely cool vibe about him, even though he was a coward and couldn’t throw a punch if his life depended on it. He whispers something to her and walks over to Yugyeom. He does remember how the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and how he suddenly wanted to run away from him, drawing away as he approaches

“Yo? Are you in trouble?”

He shrugs, trying not to show his discomfort “Yeah.”

“What happened? Did they call Jaebum-hyung?”

“He’s in there right now. I got suspended.”

"No shit. Wow.” He breathes, turning to lean against the same wall.  “How can I survive this hellhole without you?”

“You’ve been doing pretty well so far.” Yugyeom comments. He didn’t expect such a violent reaction, as his...friend slaps his arm, _hard_ ,

“Don’t. You know how important you are to me.”

“Yeah?” He’s about to dig in, but the door opens and Jaebum exits with a quick nod to the principal. “I—“

His brother looks _tired._ Jaebum, even when overworked, still always had that fire and life about him, but it seems to have been burned right out of him like a  rather overused candle. One look from him and the words fell out of his thoughts.  He knows he has the softest spot for his brother, and any rebellious streak can be quelled, easily, with a look and some advice. He’s just been having such a hard time recently...

Jaebum nods to Bam, and gives him the low down. Suspended for a month, and he can’t pick up his classwork-no, it has to be mailed. It seems pretty extreme for whatever he did that’s getting really, really hard to recall. What was it...? What had he done...?

They had to be _escorted_ out of the building, because apparently his classmates were afraid of him now, so that was that. Going from a nobody to a, uh, public menace was quite the upgrade. 

They reach the parking lot. Jaebum has two different vehicles-a used car he bought as soon as he got his license to pass down to Yugyeom, and his _baby_ , his one love-none of his relationships compared to the one he had with his Harley. Yugyeom can barely look at it, let alone touch it. It’s a pretty old model, he got it for cheap, and Mark, being the engineering genius he is, fixed it right up. Jaebum does most of the maintenance now, but...it’s a pretty fucking cool bike.

It goes to show how much of a rush his brother was in when he got the call, when his precious motorcycle is shining among the dull minivans and whatever the principal’s car was trying to be. Jaebum barely glances at him, walking to the vehicle and pulling two helmets from the back, handing it off to him.

When they get back to their house-barely being so, it was more like a hole in the wall at the end of town, Yugyeom almost wants to sneak into his room, but,

“Yugyeom. I’m showering and then we’re talking. Get your story straight by then.”

Cool. Okay. Story straight. Jaebum disappears into his bedroom and Yugyeom has free reign to stare outside the kitchen window and try to remember what happened.

It was around midday, but the sky was darkening and thunder was rolling in. Because they lived at the edge of town, off by the lake and on the bottom of a hill, they had an excellent view of the sky, and flood insurance for the ages. Just in case.

Then, he notices a car heading down the hill, and slowing down in front of their house. They didn’t have many visitors. Yugyeom didn’t have many friends, and Jaebum had little time for them, and he’s never seen that car before...

It stops, but nobody gets out. That’s...odd. He continues to stare, ignoring the doors opening, closing, and eventually the footsteps behind him.

“Alright, I’m-What are you doing?”  

“There’s someone outside...” He mutters, and Jaebum is at his side in seconds.

He’s never seen that look on his brother before. Fear. Jaebum grabs his shoulder, pulling him away from the window, and right into his bedroom.

Jaebum locks the door and leans against it. “I think I’m starting to piece it together. Gyeomie...” He places his head against the door, sighing deeply. “I get a feeling this is my fault.”

“Hyung...? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I thought we were the lucky ones but...” He sighs, “I know this may seem out of the blue, but you know how we never knew our parents?” Another pause. “I mean you. You never knew them.”

Okay, getting weird. Jaebum continues,

“Do you know what happens when a changeling and a de—“ He stops as the doorbell rings. “Let’s go to Mark’s place.”

“ _Now_?” His brother nods, grabbing his arm, unlocking the door and pushing him down to the backyard’ sliding door. Jaebum slides it open so quietly, Yugyeom has to wonder if he’s done this before, leading him down and around back to his motorcycle. Jaebum doesn’t bother with a helmet, leaving Yugyeom’s anxiety to rise, but he forces one onto Yugyeom, pulling off, and away, up the hill.

The entire ordeal was thirty seconds. Yugyeom was too afraid to look back, because whatever it was had his brother scared enough for him to 1) not put on a helmet and 2) let Yugyeom ride on his motorcycle again.

It’s not like they can talk while the wind whips around them, so he focuses his anxiety down by trying to keep balance. It works, for a while.

Mark was one of Jaebum’s most reliable friends. He has three. Mark, Jackson, and Jinyoung. Jinyoung, no longer due to obvious reasons but Yugyeom still counts him because Jaebum has no casual friends, like himself. Jackson was really sweet and he adored Yugyeom, and Mark was a quiet, dependable rock. He was also pretty rich (for their standards. Mark was maybe a little above average,) and had a rocking house up in the hills. Sometimes Yugyeom wonders how Jaebum had all these rich friends while he struggled.

While they’re riding, it starts to pour. Yugyeom doesn’t feel wet, though, and eventually they come to Mark’s home—old money in an new money neighbourhood.

Jaebum doesn’t even have to knock, he has a key. The opening was grand. One long spiral staircase and an overlook to the upper floors.

“ _Mark_? You home?” He calls, and there’s shuffling from upstairs and the emergence of one Mark Tuan, tired, and hungover. He shuffles to the edge of the overlook, to them.

And his memory blanks from there. Yoongi seems engrossed in the story, but watches Yugyeom’s expression change as he tries to recall the memories, and tries to jog the memory.  

Yoongi starts, “What does Mark have to do with any of this?”

“Ummm...not much...I think.” He admits, and the adult gives him this disappointed look. “...but um, that’s practically all I remember.”

“Really?” He asks, and Yugyeom nods. “Okay. Well...Yugyeom, admittedly, there’s not much we can do with you, right now.“ 

“What do you do here, anyways?” He blurts out, and Yoongi just _looks_ at him, like he should know. He should probably stop blanking out when he speaks, to be honest.

He has a couple of ideas, and he doesn’t like any of them so he'd prefer if Yoongi just _told_ him.

He doesn’t. “Clearly, you’ve had some strange experiences. I think it’s a good idea for you to reflect on them, and maybe something will change.”

“ _Change_? Like what?”

“Maybe remember what’s happened. How about you go up to your room and meditate on it for a little, hm?”

The way he says it, it seems like Yugyeom doesn’t really have a choice, so he leaves the office after saying goodbye. To his (not really) surprise, there was yet another person listening in.

He steps away as Yugyeom opens the door, and he can get a good look at Jaehyun’s face.

That's cute. His glasses are crooked. The attempted eavesdropping? Less cute, but he’ll forgive it.

“Heeeeyy...” He blinks, stepping away and looking up at him. “I was er, about to go and... _is_ it true you don’t remember anything?”

“I remember plenty of things.”

“Like what?” He asks. Yugyeom kind of just wants to walk away, but he seems earnest. “I don’t remember a lot, myself. Everything before I came here is sort of a blur.”

“Huh...for real?” He _never_ wants to be like that. _Ever_. He didn’t like having holes in his memory.

“Total blank. It sucks. Like you lose a part of yourself, y’know?” Jaehyun continues, “I mean. It all sort of fades away. I thought you were kinda the same?”

Fading away, huh...? That’s...suspicious.

“Is anybody else like that?” He asks, and Jaehyun steps away, obviously thinking,

“Jungkook mentioned something like that to me, before.” He hums, “I don’t really talk to the others much, so, I don’t know.”

Right. Okay. Another reason to probably get the hell out of here. Creepy vibes: Not a fan. Memory loss: Worse, if that was the case. Though the gaps in his memory seem a little deeper than that, it has layers.

Maybe he should try that meditation thing. But should he trust anything Yoongi even says to him? He’s...weird.

Whatever. He’ll try it. He starts to leave and Jaehyun holds out a hand,

“Wait? Where are you going?”

“...To my room...?”

“Oh! Oh...yeah, right. Er...s-sorry.” And he turns away, heading briskly in the other direction.

He hates this room so much. But he’s stuck here now because:

The blank is him figuring out why the hell he’s here. His talk with Yoongi helped him remember some things, but what was so _strange_ he needed to taken to Supernatural Boot Camp or whatever this was. So he sighs, and glances back to the record player.

 

//

 

Jaebum wasn’t really a fan of cafes, or coffee in general, but Jackson loved them, so this was one they frequented. Jackson was some life coach or whatever, so he was constantly going on speaking tours or something like that. It was weird, but he was pretty successful and Jaebum was proud of him for it.

So he can say...Jackson’s probably in town one or two times a month. He’s missed a lot of big shit, but he’s still a good, comforting friend.

He’s early, so he grabs a chair at one of the window booths, sitting and twiddling his thumbs. There’s too much on his mind, after months of boring shit, everything just... _happens_. Only five minutes into this window-twiddling, does he come up with the idea to get coffee for them, so he pulls out his wallet and heads to the counter.

He doesn’t like coffee, so the less like coffee it was, the better. He orders one of the sweetest, creamiest things off the menu and he knows Jackson likes Americano so, Americano it is.

As he turns around he notices two things. Jackson looks particularly put together, handsome. He must have a meeting or something today, because he’s tsssssst. And he made time for him. And was that person in the hoodie always behind his booth?

He locks eyes with Jackson almost immediately and the way his friend’s face lights up makes him smile too. They meet up, and Jaebum places the Americano in front of him proudly as they sit.

“I remembered what you like.”

Jackson smiles but his tone is sarcastic, “And it only took you hmmm...six years? Good job!” He tilts his head at Jaebum’s cup, “What is that monstrosity?”

“It’s just a two shot caramel no foam extra cream iced latte. With extra whipped cream. Did I mention the—"

“Okay. We get it. You have an addiction to sweets.” He sighs, “I come back to town and I already have to take you to rehab.”

Rehab...that’s right. It’s kinda like a weird, magical, rehab. “Speaking of rehabilitation...”

“ _Seriously_? What did you get addicted to? Jaebumie-hyung, you know I’m always here for you right—" Jackson reaches over the table, grabbing his hand, (the one currently holding his drink), Jaebum was going to pull away, but, eh.

“It’s not me.”

Jackson tilts his head, furrowing his brow. “Then what...?”

“Let’s start at the beginning. Relax.” He squeezes his hand and pulls away. “Okay...um, you think I’m...strange, right?”

“Strange?” Jackson asks. “We went over this? Jaebum, just because people think that you’re eccentric, you ca—"

“No. Really. _Weird._ I’m serious.”

“Where are you going with this?” He pushes his coffee to the side, leaning on the table, eyes narrowing, taking in...his everything. Jackson’s eyes linger on his own gaze, lips curling upwards. It’s a long pause before something clicks. “Wait...! Do you mean you’re...?” He waves his hand, waiting.

“Yes! Well...no! But I am.” He sighs, “It’s complicated.”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this?” Jackson taps the table, kind of gesturing around the café, but mostly the table behind them, which was currently occupied.

“I can trust you, can’t I?” Jackson nods vigorously, “I’m not that worried, there’s a lot of white noise I doubt anybody’s listening. It’s what makes places like these best.”

“Okay...” Jackson leans back, “If you think so...”

“Where should I...okay, um...let’s see...I’ll just say it.” Jaebum hums, taking a sip of his beverage. Way too sweet, but he likes it like that. “My father is a demon, of Asmodeus specifically, you got me?”

Jackson stares at him. Jaebum takes another long sip.

“My _mother_ , on the other hand is of the Unseel—"

“Hold on, pause. You’re not human _at all_?” Jackson whispers, leaning forward, Jaebum shoos him away, to keep it casual.

“I told you I was weird, Seun-ah.” He sighs deeply, resting his head in his palm. “I don’t have any powers though, and I blend, I thought Yugyeom was like me, but last week there was some...altercation at his school. And then the agency got on our backs. Still following?”

He nods slowly. Jaebum tries to give him what he thinks is a reassuring smile, but, “Did you always have pointed teeth?”

“Yes, I have. Why do you think I don’t smile, much?” He replies casually, without much thought and Jackson’s hand scrambles for his Americano, chugging. Jaebum figures it’s best to just keep going. “It’s weird, but a few days ago I got this letter in the mail, from somebody named Yoongi and-well, he took the agency out of my hair, and Yugyeom with it—"

“What? Where is he? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine...I wouldn’t...Anyways. This part is gonna sound a little-“ More coffee down his throat, “Farfetched. Um...Jinyoung—"

Instantly, “Jaebum, you need to get over him.”

“I am. I mean, I will-h-have. But it does have...something to do with Jinyoung.” He says quietly, averting his gaze, to the window, watching somebody walk by. Jackson just frowns.

“I meant to ask about how you were doing but it seems a lot’s changed.”  He says, watching him, but Jaebum keeps his eyes down. “How _are_ you, hyung?”

“Fine,”

“Just fine?” He shoots back, trying to get under his skin, but Jaebum’s a little too guarded to fall for that, today.

“Just fine. As I was saying, about Jinyoung—"

“Hold on. Was Jinyoung-“

“Yeah.” He replies just as the door chimes, and a hooded figure, slides in front of them, hands on the table,

The hood covers his face, but he moves to pull it down. “There you are, dickhead!” He’ll ignore that quip. Jaebum hadn’t seen him since yesterday, but it’s amazing how someone’s state can deteriorate in twenty four hours. Admittedly, Jaebum probably didn’t look much better, nearly sleeping in a phone booth.

Jaebum exchanges a glance with Jackson, “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Am I? My _best_ friend is sent away and I’m just supposed to be okay with it?” He breathes, slamming his hands on the table, “And it’s all because—“

Jaebum stands up, taking his coffee and Bambam’s arm with him. “You’re making a scene. Come on. Let’s all go outside.”

Jackson follows behind him, kind of swerving to get a better look. “Who is this?”

They exit to the street, to the autumn air and only then does Jaebum let go of the teenager. “This is—"

“I’m Bambam. Just Bambam.” Jackson nods, processing the information and he turns back to Jaebum. “I’ve been looking for you since yesterday! Where’d you run off to, huh?“

“Hold on. If you were busy being nosy, you’d know I didn’t—"

He’s not listening, ranting. “You goddamn coward! What kind of brother just—"

“Wait, wait. You’re coming at me?” Jaebum growls, “You, of all people?” Bambam doesn’t back down, even though Jaebum looks like he could probably toss him. “You don’t think you’ve hur—"

“Aren’t you two on the same side?” Jackson interrupts quickly, as they both turn to look at him.

Yugyeom’s getting sick of waking up and well, hearing the clock ticking, but he’s also not a fan of Jungkook at the edge of his bed...holding his phone? He _hid_ that!

As soon as he was sent to his room to ‘think’, he just fell asleep and had a really weird dream. And it was _strange_. Lighthouses, and fog and a suffocating loneliness. He’s just sort of staring at Jungkook as he spins the phone around, trying to understand it. How’d he get in here, anyways? Magic?

Eventually he looks at him. “Who's Bambam?”

He sits up, reaching over and taking the phone from Jungkook. He hadn’t unlocked it, but yeah, there were dozens of messages...that Yugyeom didn’t want to answer. He’s petty. Sorry.

“He’s my...was, my best friend.” He mutters, clicking off the phone. Jungkook tilts his head, moving closer,

“Was? I wanna know.” He places a hand on his thigh and leans on him. “Tell me, tell me, I wanna kn—"

“There’s not much to know? We were friends and then he got a girlfriend and everything was fucked. Actually, I don’t even know if they were dating, so _super fucked_. We kinda stopped talking...and then everything happened.”

“Oh? Then why is he texting you so much?” He asks innocently, and _fine_ he’ll look at the phone, clicking on and off in anxiety before unlocking, again.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder as he reads, and just as he’s going to tuck away his phone and maybe feel guilty for the rest of the night, he taps his leg furiously-

“ _What_?”

“Let _me_ talk to him. It’ll be totally cool, come on.”

“...Why would I _ever_ let you do that?” Yugyeom asks, holding the phone out of Jungkook’s reach as he attempts to grab for it.

“Uhhh...” Apparently he hadn’t thought that far. “Because for the day you’ve been here, you know me best! I’m your new best friend.”

New best friend, huh? That’s not how it works, but maybe he could make somebody jealous. Has kind of a nice ring, but—

“Stop staring off into the distance and let me do it.” Fine. There probably isn't even a signal out here. He drops the phone in Jungkook’s lap, he picks it up, and stares at the screen. “What do I press?”

He points to the button and Jungkook presses it after a moment of processing. And there’s that lovely tick— _ringing_.

It only takes a couple of seconds,

“Gyeomie? Oh god, you’re safe? I’m with—"

Jungkook snickers, Bam’s voice falters, “Of course he’s safe. Relatively.” He does a melodramatic sigh, sharing a look with Yugyeom. “You call him _Gyeomie?” Ohh,_ shit Yugyeom doesn’t think he likes those words coming out of Jungkook’s mouth.

“Who is this? Why do you have his phone? Yugye—"

“ _Chill_. He’s right next to me. He says hi. Who are you with?”

“I’m sorry,  _who_ the fuck are you?”

“Don’t get an attitude with me. I’ll ea—" Yugyeom reaches over and covers his mouth. Jungkook _bites_ him, yes, _bites_ , he yelps and Bambam gasps on the other side.

“What was that? Who—"

Jungkook doesn't let him get a second in. Or, more accurately, they're interrupting each-other to get the upper hand.“Oh my _god_ you’re annoying. Yugyeom _ie_ , you were friends with this?”

“ _Excuse me_? If anybody here is—"

“Anyways. Pretend I’m Yugyeom. What were you going to say?”

“Yugyeom?” He’s starting to feel bad. “You’re okay, right? I just feel so bad, for leaving you like that...I’m really worried about you. You know that.” That's so...that's so  _sweet_ , oh god. 

Jungkook looks at him, “Hm...Yugyeom, I don’t like his attitude, really.”

“You don’t?” Yugyeom asks, already ready to cave. Jungkook nods,

“Yeah, he’s like, one of those people who doesn’t realize _what he has_ until it’s too late, right? Don’t like him. Rubble, or whatever, I’m speaking on behalf of-“

“Who the fuck are you? Yugyeom, just talk to _me_ okay?”

“Convincing argument. Do you have anything else to say?” There’s some muttering on the other end, and a couple of voices blending, until Bam's smooth one chimes back in. Who is he with, really? Knowing him, this is just new conversational material for whatever topic his friends will go over at lunch. 

“Yugyeom, seriously? I know you're there, aren't you going to speak?"

He sighs deeply, debating it. He's not quite sure if he could control himself, it's so much easier to get angry over a phone without anything to cue in.  He's not sure if he could even  _be_ upset, on the other hand. His anger, jealousy, burns out quicker than driftwood, simmering into easy apathy. It's how he got through last year.  He gestures for Jungkook to give him the phone anyways. He does.

“Yugyeom speaking!" He chimes, there's a relieved sigh on the other end. 

“Oh, thank god.” He breathes,  "I have your brother next to me, but speak freely. Are you safe?"

"Can I speak to my brother?" He asks. Bam makes this sound in the back of his throat. 

"Uhhh? Fuck that guy?" He thinks that Bam's a coward most times, but when it comes to Jaebum, he's like goddamn Hercules.  "You know you can tell me anything you need." 

Alright. Last straw.  Clicking the phone off was satisfying as hell. 

Jackson watches Jaebum's face fall as the Flintstone’s character's phone grows silent. and _aw._ Jaebum was always so strong, ever since he met him, but it was interesting how for six years he had no idea... _what_ he was. The guy takes aloof to a new level, to be honest. But watching him work to keep his small family together is one of the things he loves the most about him. Honorable, sweet, he can go on. 

Bambam pockets the phone and looks to both of them. Ever since Yugyeom hung up, Jackson could see him trying not to tear up, but he had no idea how to comfort _either_ of them.

The teenager pulls up his hood and throws his hands in his pockets, eyes to the sidewalk. “I’m fucking out of here.”

Jaebum gives him a half-hearted wave, letting the attitude slide and now—

“I think I’ll just go home...” Jaebum sighs, running a hand through his hair and avoiding Jackson’s eye contact. “You’ll still be here tomorrow, right?”

“I can cancel some jobs if you’d like.” He wraps a hand around Jaebum’s wrist. And, oh wow, his blood runs _hot_. Hellish, chthonic. He doesn’t look it, though. Jaebum has a lot of unique qualities about him. Like, he’s sexy as hell. If Jackson didn’t know now, demon would be on the list of things he _could_ be. Broad shoulders, his _eyes_ he’s—

“You don’t have to do that.” He gently removes his arm. Jackson blinks back into reality. It’s boring, here. What just happened?

“So what, you’re just gonna live in solitude like it’s a good thing?” His motorcycle is parked down the street. Jackson’s car is the other way, but he follows.

“I think I am. Probably spend some time looking for Jiny-" He stops. Jackson scowls.

“Looking for Jinyoung?” He finishes. Jaebum avoids his gaze, yet again. 

Jaebum slides onto his motorcycle, fishing keys out of his pockets, as well as his helmet. “It’s for a reason, Jackson. I’m not—"

“Jaebum, you really gotta get him off your mind. It’s not fair to _you_.” 

“It’s _not_ like that,” He sighs, starting up his vehicle, getting ready to put on his helmet. “It’s really not, Jackson, you’ve got to trust me.”

Fine. Fine then, he sighs, swallowing feelings and looks back up with a smile, probably too tight. “I’m coming over for breakfast. Be sure to make me something nice, okay?” He reaches over, balancing on the handlebars for a kiss on his cheek. “Drive safe!”

 

//

 

Bambam actually lived on the other side of town. Foster parents didn’t wanna shell out money for anything _but_ bus passes and he hates public transit, so he just walks. And also he didn’t want to start crying in front of Jaebum, of all fucking people.

He gets a few texts, but for the first time he doesn’t really feel that compelled to answer them. And then it _rings_ , and he’s kind of desperate and hoping it’s Yugyeom, so he picks up without checking the contact.

The sound of gum popping, “Hey,”

“Hey?” His voice cracks.

“You wanna get dinner? My mom’s out of town for the week and I’m lonely. We can go to my place after, too.”

“Oh, yeah. I can do that. When?” He pauses, bringing his eyes up and watching a familiar man on a motorcycle stop at a red light. “Because I look like shit. Need to freshen up.”

“Wow, for me? I’m thankful, Bammie.” More gum popping. “My house, seven. Or I could pick you up. It’s whatever.”

“Depends on the place...”

“Your mom works as a chef, right? Let’s go to the diner, then. Nothing fancy.” Nothing fancy, as there were only four real restaurants in town. three, _real_ , reservations and all, and the other was the diner. His foster mom loved that restaurant more than him, probably. Understandable enough.

It’s a week of holidays anyways, so it’s not like they’d care where he was.

“I’ll stop by your house, then. You want flowers?”

“ _Stop_ , you prick. Are you trying to poison me?” Still lighthearted. Bam actually feels like laughing for once,

“I’m _not_. It’s a gesture of love, come on.”

“One, I’m still allergic, no matter how hard you try to deny. Two, flowers for a diner date? You know how to impress a g—"

He glares past the bus stop, and watches Jaebum drive off, down one of the extensive hills. He feels horrible, so much so, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What were you saying?”

“Jesus. Are you never not distracted? You didn’t even tell me what was going on yesterday.” Gum popping. His ear is starting to ache. “You planning on elaborating anytime soon?”

“Maybe at dinner.” He sighs, “Um. I gotta go. I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Mmmhm, okay. See you then. You better look tsssst, _hot_ , okay?”

“Probably not. Bye.” He pockets his phone, and continues his trek down the streets.

Their town...it was pretty small. If four restaurants didn’t give it away. Four restaurants, and a helluva lot of cafes. That’s not including the one McDonald’s at the very edge of town, by the lakes. If he weren’t already stranded here, with no way out, he’d complain more, but alas, he’s accepted that even with a city nearby, there’s no way out of this hellhole.

It’s not like his parents are planning on adopting him anytime soon, so he can’t run away, lest he be put back into yet another, shitty foster home. Just one more year and he’s really free. Life, man.

And now it’s like, him against the world. Because Im Fuckface just, from the best Bam could gather, sends Yugyeom off because he got suspended. Fucking douchebag. Their pasts are intertwined, and in his humble opinion, he’s been a better support than fucking Jaebum. Show up, take him away, and then leave him alone? Thanks.

Just saying.

Yugyeom would acknowledge it _too_! Always telling him how much he loved him, and ‘I can’t live without you’, but what happened to that...

Okay, well he has a vague idea—no, he knows exactly why but Yugyeom isn’t that petty, right? Though they hadn’t been seeing each other much, recently...even with all of his efforts.

Whatever. Probably Jaebum’s fault. (The day he’ll take the blame, is the day his ghost spits on his grave.)

It’s another hour and a half until he gets to his street, the house on the very end, kind of upwards on the hill. So if there was a mudslide, they’d be fucked.

But it’s okay, his parents have hella money in their retirement funds.

He opens the door, and like usual, there’s nobody home. Except for the puppy his mother desperately wanted, but was never around to care for. He does so, but honestly, he’s forgotten it’s name.

Puppy can wait, though, because he has his appearance to take care of first. His room is actually in the attic. He doesn’t mind it-gives off the privacy he so desperately needs for, _guests_ , the only problem is that he has to climb down the stupid ladder in the middle of the night to get to the bathroom. He’s fallen and busted his ass more than once.

He does get a bathroom to himself, because his parents don’t want to live with the horror of a teenage boy’s bathroom apparently.

There’s one thing he notices other than his deep eyebags in the mirror. There was a marking on his collarbone, upper chest, kind of reminds him of a star, kind of reminds him of a compass.

That’s...

Strange...

 

//

 

Jungkook’s been joyfully looking though an old notebook, the only one he thought to pack. Only allowed to do so, because Yugyeom’s sort of dealing with a delimma.

First, the entire situation. He’s gotten a vague idea on what he’s doing here-his powers clearly aren’t the nicest, judging by white streaks through the hair. He’s not sure if he should be grouped in with people like _Jungkook_. But he’s here.

Second, his brother clearly didn’t just, shove him off, because he’s too much to deal with. There’s something else happening...

Third, fuck Bambam, he doesn’t want to go back. Thinking about it, there’s really only his brother, and honestly, while he doesn’t want to, he _can_ live without him.

“This is pretty.” Jungkook hums, dragging his hand along some sketch he did for class once, but never turned in. “Have you been there?”

Er, what?

Yugyeom sits up, to get a better look. It was an environmental painting, of some icy cave. His art teacher just randomly gave out references and that just-so-happened to be his.

“What do you mean?” He asks, Jungkook turns back to him, but his hair covers his gaze.

“There’s bound to be a cave like this somewhere around here. Intuition, right? And... with your powers, maybe there is one.” His powers? What is he talking about? Does Jungkook really know his skillset better than he does? Likely, as he thinks about it he knows  _nothing_. 

“It’s a cave. What’s so special about a cave?”

“Huh? A lot.” He drops the book onto Yugyeom’s lap, and glances at the clock. “My free time’s up. I’m not even supposed to be here.” The way they’re sitting, Jungkook is cross-legged sort of at the edge, and Yugyeom is hovering near him, looking where the book _used_ to be. Jungkook wraps a hand around his nape, and pulls him upwards. “I’ll see you later, we can do something _fun_.”

Yugyeom’s not sure how to feel, he didn’t particularly want to be man-handled by somebody he could probably bench press, judging by stature alone, and that Jungkook’s definitely flirting with him. That’s never happened before. He just thought most people automatically found him undesirable and unfriendly. Jaebum usually got people falling all over him, and Yugyeom got an awkward salad.

He just gulps and Jungkook gives him that toothy, pointed grin as he leaves.

_That_. That was uncomfortable. A quick glance to the clock and it’s about mid-evening. He kind of wants to nap again, think, some more, but it’s only a matter of time until he’s needed, probably, so he gets ready to head back downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jughead voice* i'm weird, i'm a weirdo.  
> see y'all next week!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is my favourite vv

Jaebum’s usually a go-with-the flow guy, but Park Jinyoung in his kitchen is something he can’t vibe with.

 The way the house is set up, the kitchen is right by the entrance, to the side, facing the street. And the living room is facing the lake. Jinyoung is kneeling down, opening and checking _his_ oven, and as he stands he finally looks in his direction, time stopping. Not completely accurate, because he can hear the clock ticking, loud and clear, but it still feels that way. 

It took him about an hour extra to get home in the first place. He was planning to go home, take a shower, sleep for the next 16 to 18 hours until he had to work, and feed himself off of gas station pastries, but for some reason traffic was directly from hell, and he just wanted to go home and sleep. Emotional exhaustion isn't that far off from the physical, for him. 

And now, he has a visitor. Great. And the visitor is the ex he will _never_ get over. Great _er_. He feels his heart drumming against his chest, for maybe the first time as they lock eyes, and Jaebum tries to forget, The heartache, that would quickly transfer into a headache. Jinyoung looks unbothered, and here he is on the verge of a silent panic attack, a little too afraid to get lost in the memories, that he’d desperately prefer to reality. Compared to the last time he saw him...

He looks fine. Like a mess, but still fine. It’s almost a relief.

Jinyoung stares for a few seconds, overlooking him. Jaebum starts to remove his jacket, his favourite leather, “You look good.” Jinyoung’s well—he _used_ to be a horrible liar. Must have practiced.

He gets off of the ground and to Jaebum. Jinyoung. Honestly, he can’t even describe him. The word ethereal always pops into his head, but he can’t think of any other descriptors. Handsome everything.

Ethereal as always, but there’s something...off. His hair’s a little longer, which is odd, because Jinyoung always kept his hair short. Short, neat, and pretty. That’s not to say he isn’t, because, okay, well, he should stop staring.

“Jinyoung. What are you doing here? Seriously.”

“ _You_ called me. I thought it would only be nice to pay you a visit.” He puts a hand on his chest, it burns, and starts fixing his collar for him. “Have you been well, my love?”

He’s being cordial. What happened to, oh, I’m gonna destroy you, I hate you, I love you, blah, blah blah blah. And he’s not going to pretend like _love_ didn’t sting, deeply. Every time. Every goddamn time.

“Jinyoung, I’m not going-“

His hands travel upwards, one cupping his chin, “Not going to what?” He brings his other hand to the base of his neck, takes two fingers, against the pressure point gently and he _chokes_ , “We’re going to spend some time together. I want to talk to you.”

Can’t reply,

He keeps talking, scarily calm. “Did you miss me? I missed you.” But he says it with no emotion, whatsoever. “It felt like I was coming home, coming back here.”

He nods slowly, trying not to freak out. Jinyoung just tilts his head, hair following.

“So you’re going to talk to me, right? Love?”

Jinyoung presses harder,  fingers traveling to his windpipe. He nods, calmly, hoping his heartbeat doesn’t betray him.

“Perfect! Go sit down.” He lets go, and Jaebum rubs his neck, stumbling away.

He notices, trying not to think too hard about what just transpired that Jinyoung cleaned his house for him. Nice...? and two, is that a table cloth? On _his_ wine-stained oakwood table? Blasphemy. He likes humor to cope, he realizes. Even though he’s really not that funny.  

Soon enough Jinyoung presents two plates, he knows where everything is, it’s no problem, and he even lights a candle as they sit down. He glances down to the plate, and he feels stupid even asking, but, he’s not trying to die.

“Um.” He clears his throat. “How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?” It is _definitely_ in his new, twisted nature, not to be above a quick vial of poison. Easy to make, why not just slip a little in with whispered alchemy?

Jinyoung rolls his eyes and reaches over the table, stabbing the meat multiple times, picking it up and making a show of chewing. “Why would I do that?”

“I...don’t know.”

“Glad we’ve cleared that up.”

Jaebum’s not sure if he should be straightforward or not. It shouldn’t matter, because even if he is, Jinyoung would re-direct the conversation if he doesn’t want to answer.

“I could probably have you arrested for breaking and entering.”

He leans forward and snaps his fingers, with a slick smile, “And I’d be gone, just like that.” Maybe so, “And besides, you wouldn’t dare.”

He might be right about that too. Jaebum turns his attention back to the plate, re-thinking his course of action. Maybe jump out of the window, (in his own house), maybe go hide in the bathroom, (in his own house), but also, this is a prime opportunity. He hasn’t seen Jinyoung in months. He single handedly broke his heart, crushing it with mortar and pestle into fine dust. He mourned this man. He really did.

He breaks the silence, swallowing those feelings for now. “So...do you want to tell me what you did to Yugyeom?”

“It’s _always_ about Yugyeom with you.” He whines. That’s weird, Jinyoung wasn’t a complainer. And also, what?

“What are you _talking_ about? Nyongie- _Jinyoung_ , I mean, It was your idea in the first place that I-“

“ _Fine_ , fine,” Jinyoung breaks easily, twirling his fork. “I didn’t _do_ anything. Like I said, your bloodline is poison. Just some well placed phone calls, and...”

“Why would you do that to me?”

Jinyoung scoffs, dropping his utensils and resting his head in his palm. “Why would I do that to you?” And he adjusts his arm just so, that the sleeve of his sweater runs up a bit, and are those _feathers_ \- “Why would you do this to _me_?”

Jaebum reaches forward, he breaks easily, too. “Let me see. Let me see that.”

Jinyoung draws back, cradling his arm. “Absolutely _not_. You’ll make it worse. I know it.”

Okay, he’s probably going to have to turn on the charm to get Jinyoung to cooperate with him. Charm, something he has very little of, but he finds just the smallest amounts tend to get him what he wants.

“Nyongie, come closer, let me see.” He holds his hand out. Jinyoung stares at it. “Baby?”

“N-no...I-“

“I won’t make it worse, just trust me. Just show me.”

They go to his bathroom. Jaebum leans against the sink and Jinyoung sits on the edge of the tub, playing with his sleeves.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Right. That.

But he obliges. It’s a quick countdown, all Jaebum has to do is unbutton his shirt as Jinyoung pulls his sweater over his head. He’s wearing an undershirt, underneath, but he already knows what’s there.

The scars, two long straight, a little jagged, but deep cuts around the middle of his back, that of course appeared the last day he saw Jinyoung, which lead to a bit of a nervous breakdown and a disappearance from Jaebum’s life.

Now, what Jaebum thought were feathers, were actually these lines, somewhat feather shaped, patterned, that would remind Jaebum of an extensive tattoo if the skin wasn’t raised, from his back, (he really doesn’t need to look), and trailing down his arms. Jinyoung, meanwhile, is staring at his chest.

Easy enough to see why. Patterned from his heart, slowly inching up his collarbone and from far away, the blues and purples blend to look like a bruise if not for the visible veins, criss-crossing in an unnatural pattern. It’s kinda gross, he’s avoided looking at himself for that very reason.  He hasn’t quite deducted the origin. Energy waiting to be released, trapped under the skin? A physical manifestation of a broken heart, probably a nice gift from his mother? He’s not sure and he doesn’t care. It uh, looks bad but Jinyoung’s is worse. Much worse.

Jaebum pushes off of the sink and over to Jinyoung, lowering himself to the ground, to take his hand, and the skin is smooth,

“I can’t feel it.”

“It hurts. Really bad, Jaebum.” He brings a hand to his bruise, pressing softly. “Does this hurt?”

As Jinyoung presses, it gives way to a dull, throbbing pain, but he shakes his head, focusing instead on how...good it feels to be looking at him again. Touch, no matter how fleeting it may be, is always pleasing. And Jinyoung...was so special, even if he left him feeling empty for months without his presence.

He can’t believe he’s looking him in the eyes, again.

Jinyoung doesn’t even watch him for a second more, grabbing his face and pulling him upwards so fast Jaebum has to readjust to his knees, for an agonizingly slow kiss. It’s odd. Jinyoung-as in his Jinyoung, the love of his life was never quite...desperate like this-controlling in this kinda needy, frantic way, he _wants_ this. Kind of unbefitting of a holy creature such as himself, but who is Jaebum to judge? His lips are still just as soft, plush, _lovely_.

Not even his lips. Everything he touches is smooth, perfect. Even though he just has to open his eyes to get a reminder of his pain. He knows Jinyoung bruises, very, very easily, and when they were together, he’s treated with the utmost care and delicacy, but...he missed him so much, he doesn’t want this to be some mirage, or some cruel empty trick from a higher being, so he...he holds on tight, really tight. Jinyoung doesn’t seem to care, smiling for the first time against his lips, placing his hand atop his, and guiding it lower, and lower, and

Jaebum jumps away as his phone rings out and he reaches to pull it from his pants pocket. This must be fucking important.

“Hello? I’m kind of busy-“

“Jaebum? I _don’t_ remember getting a tattoo. Upper chest. By my collarbone-“

“What? Why the fuck are you asking me?”

“ _Because_ one of us here is a-“

“Listen Jackson, I don’t have time for this right now. Call me back later. Bye. Love you.” He clicks it off, and stares at Jinyoung, the break letting him gain a little perspective.

He left...and didn’t come back, and left him alone, and brokenhearted, and in so much pain, and his smile was _perfect_. Jinyoung takes his hand,  still not looking directly in the eyes, but places it back on his hip, occupying the same space but they feel closer somehow,

“I believe, we were in the middle of something.” He keeps his voice low, velvety, silky, and Jaebum thinks he’s finally gotten a glimpse of heaven. Lucky him.

 

//

 

Yugyeom finds Yoongi staring wistfully outside the window. It’s mid evening, and, even though it’s not winter, out here, it’s pitch black. He doesn’t notice him approach, so he kinda, reaches a hand out, and-

Yoongi turns to him before he can touch. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi-“

“Let me guess, bad dream?”

Guess that psychic thing was _true_? “Not, er um kinda...?”

“Well, go on, tell me.” 

Yoongi doesn’t seem like he’s processing the story, the lighthouses and lanterns and boats, he’s just using it as extra information to process his theories. Guess psychics wouldn’t really have to listen to people anyways. How nice for him.  

“Are you fae?” Is his only question, once he’s finished. How, the fuck, would he know that? Yoongi seems to realize this, quickly editing the question. “You’re _probably_ fae. Let’s do a quick test.”

Yoongi leads him off, down the hallway to the very back, to where Yugyeom thinks the basement door must be. The door had three iron bars spread evenly and, _oh_ he’s...really uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Yoongi watches him slow down and tuck his hands away, into his pockets.

“So that theory is correct. Interesting.” He smiles at him. Yugyeom tries to smile back, for some reason. Yoongi clasps his shoulder, “ _Now_ we can get to work.”

He has to ask. “Work on, um, what, exactly?”

“ _You_. Now, it’s almost time for dinner. You can help Namjoon set the table.”

Namjoon gives him a big smile, as Yoongi explains his job, and then starts directing him, swallowing that feeling from their first meeting the best he could, focusing on the task. He’s set tables before. None this big, or “fancy”, but whenever Jaebum would visit him at the foster home, he _always_ had to set the table.

As he’s setting plates around the table, “So...” Namjoon begins, “I don’t know if this sounds weird, but, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright.”

“Yeah? I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m prying, it’s just...coming here must be a little strange. Being surrounded by humans, and then not.”

He nods slowly, as Namjoon passes him the utensils, “Actually, home, except for my brother...after the accident...everything just felt kind of wrong.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t think I ever belonged.”

“Yeah...it can feel that way, I’m sure. What about your brother? Are you related?”

“Yeah, we are.” He says simply, trying to ignore the burning questions, like why Jaebum would never just...tell him these things. In retrospect, maybe...maybe it was for protection...but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore.

Namjoon isn’t very chatty, or maybe he’s just tired? Either way, Yugyeom doesn’t mind it, and soon enough, everybody begins to file into the dining room.

After dinner, lonely for two different reasons, Yugyeom spends his hour until curfew listening to music, and maybe he’ll get used to smooth jazz as a replacement for the ticking. There’s no way he’d lose his mind to a fucking clock, right? But, like clockwork, once the lights are off, there’s a gentle knock on his door.

Jungkook smiles widely at him,

Yugyeom has a few questions.

“You weren’t at dinner.”

“Oh, yeah, I know. I’ve got this thing. Don’t worry about it.” A bigger smile.

“You’re back here again. Why?”

“Wanted to spend time with you. Even more. I _know_ , I’m greedy. That’s by nature, though.”

Yugyeom sighs, crossing his arms and reserving into himself, trying to avoid eye contact without it looking weird. “Um...about earlier, with my phone call...er, why did you do that?”

“Hm? You seemed upset, I just wanted to protect you.”

“...Protect...me?” There’s only been one person to do that for him before, and he’s blood.

“Yeah? Are you done grilling me? I wanna go outside, again.”

He’s still processing. “...That was real?”

“I ask myself that all the time, um, are you okay?” Jungkook grabs his arm and the cold jolts him back to reality, and a realization. He’s really got someone who, at least cares a little about him. Here, of all places.

“Yeah. Fine.” He catches his gaze again. Is that genuine concern? “Um...what are we...what are we doing...?”

“I thought we’d look around. Explore. That should be fun, right?”

Jungkook...he’s really all about fun, isn’t he. He wants to know more about him...but he seems so guarded. He shrugs, looking around for his coat and boots, and soon enough, they’re outside, behind the cabin.

It’s cold, of course. Jungkook had led him out of his room, and across the hall to his own room, and they propelled out of the window, using the side of the roof, and a very taut bedsheet, after explaining it would be stupid to go the same way twice. Guess the locked windows on his side were special treatment. It’s too dark to get a good view of anything in his room, so he’ll have to save the snooping for another day.

 Yugyeom has great upper-body strength, so it wasn’t that big of the problem, excluding the rope...carpet...blanket? burns on his hand, and Jungkook? He just jumped, after looking down, and rolled through the snow.

He’d find it impressive, if he weren’t worried.

“Why did you do _that_?” He slaps his shoulder, once they’re both on the ground. Jungkook tilts his head, not understanding,

“Do what? I just jumped.”

“You could have gotten hurt. What then?”

He shrugs, “Probably sprain an ankle, maybe bleed out. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine right now.”

That’s not...he should probably just drop it. “Fine. Where are we going?”

“That’s your job. Where are we going?”

Ugh...what the hell. Fine. Whatever. He grabs Jungkook’s hand, and they walk right down the hill. Clearly, he has no idea where he’s going, and he’s no wilderness expert, but there’s a clearing, and the snow isn’t that deep here. And he feels drawn, aching for some starlight.

The further they get away from the cabin, the clearer his head feels, and that might just be because of the cold night air. Truly sobering. Once they’re in the middle of the field, and the cabin is long past the hill, Yugyeom stops, and lies right down in the snow, with that satisfying crunch. More ice than snow, it's cold, but it doesn't bother him yet.

Jungkook stops, looking down at him. “...What are you doing?”

“This is where I wanted to go.” He points upwards, “Look. Stars.” As they were walking, though Yugyeom’s eyes were firmly planted on the snow, he did notice the gradual light, and he was right about there being more visible stars out here, and of course he would have to stop and look.

Jungkook just keeps staring at him, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Wasn’t this your idea?”

His companion shrugs a little, and drops down next to him. Yugyeom finally pulls his eyes off of the sky. His coat really isn’t that heavy, so he already feels the cold seeping in, but he doesn’t want to move. Jungkook isn’t watching him, rather gazing at the sky, breathing shallow. It’s one of the only times he wishes he had a drawing pad, it’s a sight he’d really like to sketch, but...

There's something not quite right about this, but he can't tell what. Just a little, unidentifiable piece missing, and he's not sure what to do with it. 

 

//

 

Jennie’s house is, and this is the only descriptor, _fucking_ huge. He's decided to table the strange tattoo for another day, and layer up. Tank top, over turtleneck, over (stylish) jacket. Because it’s mid autumn, it’s a little too much, but it should be fine. He knows he doesn’t look excited, but, he can’t help it. There’s a lot on his mind.

He knocks on the door and it’s open almost instantly. The one thing is that, um, that’s not Jennie. That’s Lisa, her best friend. So he has to deal with her too. Lisa, in Bam’s mind, is kind of the definition of a total bombshell-and a calmer, cooler Regina George rolled into one. Always on trend, always in style- _god_ he was so jealous of her.

“Oh. Hey, Bam.” Her face falls. “And here I was, hoping it was the takeout.”  He’s not gonna ask her to elaborate.

“...Okay? Hi, Lisa.” She nods. They glare at each other for a solid minute or two, “Can I _come in_?”

“Right.” She nods, pulling away from the door and walking further inside-after a good hair flip. “ _Jennie!_ Your man is here!”

There’s some sort of screech from upstairs and they continue their staring contest.

“I like your hair.” He says. She had dyed it some orange-red, for some odd reason months ago after bleaching it dry, and never moved on.

“I like your jacket.” She replies, and pulls out her phone.

Jennie finally appears, out of season but still fashionable fur coat and all. It’s funny, she stands at the top of her spiral staircase posing for a good thirty seconds while Lisa takes a video, for _snap_ , probably. One of those, painfully trying captions like,  _girls night in_ _! (plus Bambam.)_  They didn’t even communicate it. It just happened. (And he’s standing in the corner awkwardly on his phone as her camera pans upwards. Not that he really cares too much.)

She hops down, two steps at a time. Lisa grabs her hand, helping her down as she stumbles. He notices how her eyes fly right to the ground in embarrassment.  Lisa’s about his height (including the heels she’s wearing), but Jennie’s just...short, even with her two inch heels. Finally, people he’s taller than.

“You didn’t get my text, did you?” She asks once she’s on the bottom step and fishing her phone out of her pocket.

“That’s gonna be a hard no.” He didn’t really check his phone after his little crisis, so he probably just missed it. Jennie pulls out her phone and starts reading off a text.

“Hey bae, winky smiley face, heart, Lisa’s coming over. Can you bring your cute friend for a double date? Heart heart.” She scrolls, “Oh, and, I’m thinking takeout. I hope you don’t mind. Smiley face.”

“Yeah, I did _not_ see that...um, what friend are you talking about?”

She clicks her teeth, leaning on the banister. “Oh, come on. You know. The one you’re _always_ talking about, lately.“

“Yugyeom, you mean? He does have a name, hon.” That one stung.

“Oh, yes, yes, I know that. I didn’t mean to offend. I thought the vagueness would add a little mystery.” She smiles, sharing a glance with Lisa, “I mean, just call him. I’m totally here for an intimate get together.”

He sighs, as the realization that having your uh, BFF, missing is, even harder than in theory. He’s hurting. “About that. It’s...sorta complicated.”

“Is he not into chicks? I totally knew it.” Lisa buts in, not even peeling her eyes off her phone. “Kneeew it.”

“Did you guys have some falling out or something?” Jennie asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly." He's not the best liar. "It’s complicated though. Like...really complicated.” He mutters,

Jennie nods understandingly, and shoves Lisa and she nods as well, “Come on, to my basement. We can chat there, it’s super chill. More comfortable.”

He’s been to her house before, parties galore, but not the fucking basement, which could probably be classified as it’s own home. As they head down the stairs, Bam realizes this is it. This is the dream everybody has when they say he want a finished basement. It’s what his foster father pictures whenever they work together downstairs to ‘bond’.

It’s...it’s beautiful.

There’s a kitchenette, probably two bathrooms, a huge ass television and _bean bag chairs_.

He doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself today though, so he settles on the couch. Lisa in all her, ‘I don’t give a fuck’-ness, goes right for it. Jennie smiles at that.

“This bitch is soundproof, so if you need to scream, we’re good.” She adds as they all settle down,

“Spill the fucking _teeaaa_!” Lisa does in that sing-songy, not quite interested, but still listening voice she’s mastered.

A sigh, “It’s not that serious.” Lisa groans, Jennie reaches over and pats his hand. It's probably the most comforting touch he's had all day. If he could count on Jennie for _one_ thing. “What happened wa-"

“Wait. Yugyeom. That’s the kid who got suspended, right?” Lisa asks, actually putting down her phone. “That was fucking _crazy_. Sickening.”

That’s his reputation now? That’s...horrible. Yugyeom is honestly a real sweetheart...except for that one time, apparently.

“If he’s your friend, you should know what really happened, right? Mina told me that Nayeon said that it was really freaky. Like supernatural freaky? Do you-"

“I don’t. He’s been kind of pissed at me recently, to be honest with you guys.” Recently, more like for months, but he digresses.  He and Yugyeom...it's probably a little too much to talk about for a casual dinner. Besides, he doesn't even know where to begin. Primary school? Or last year? And they probably wouldn't care about the details, either. He'll just...keep it abridged, especially since they're both unwittingly involved. 

“What happened?” Jennie asks, shaking his shoulder, “I tried to talk to him a couple of times but-“ She stops suddenly, glancing away, “Um. Nevermind.”

He’s gonna let that one slide. “I mean. I don’t know. I guess we’ve both been changing, but...I don’t think it’s friendship ending. We’ve...ugh, I don’t know how to explain. Sorry.”

“Sorry...” Jennie mutters, he’s also not going to question that, and continue,

“For some reason his brother...like, sent him away to some boarding school? I’m not a hundred percent on why...but, I mean...” Another deep breath, “It just seems _wrong_ , since his fucking shit brother just got custod-“

“A boarding school?” Jennie interrupts. He nods slowly. “Go on.”

“Oh...Yeah, I think? And he got some fucking...dick, to talk to me when I called him. That was infuriating.” Infuriating, but, _god_  ,it was a good move to keep him hurting.

“My god, this sounds like a CW show.” Lisa puts down her phone, again, dropping it to the floor. “But. You guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

“ _I_ am. We have a _mystery_ to solve, gang!” Jennie hops up, just as her phone buzzes, “That’s the food!”

 

//

 

Youngjae slams his head against the steering wheel for probably the fourth time in the last hour. It’s understandable. Taehyung’s bubbly excitement over every new town they visit gets old, pretty fucking fast. Especially when it's the sixth in the last two days, and he just  _insisted_   that they stop in every single one. For what? Youngjae's not sure, because why do they need a picture of whatever pretty sight the town had to offer? It's not like he could do much about it, other than take the wheel and plow through to their destination. 

“Oh, wow! Look at that _lake_!” Fingers smudging on the car’s windows. “Chimmy, look at that!”

Jimin presses against the window as well, “Oh my goodness. The sunset’s reflection is so pretty~ Youngjaae-"

“I’m _driving_.”

“Our maknae is so mean.” Taehyung mutters,

“Isn’t he?”

In, out, in, out, remember your breathing exercises. “I...ah...am...sorr-Nope. I’ve been driving for sixteen hours straight. I can’t take this anymore.”

Jimin pulls away from the window and pulls out a device. “Sorry, babe. It’s not our fault this town is so far away from everything. It’s kinda weird.”

“But _perfect_!” Taehyung adds, “Oh, everything’s so pretty. We gotta find that hotel already so I can go sight-see.”

“...Sight see? We’re _working_.” He groans,

Jimin smiles at him, and then to the backseat at Taehyung, “We should go easy on him. He’s just stressed for his first job.”

“Mmm. I guessed. Jae-"

“Youngjae. Just Youngjae, please.” He doesn’t like this town. Their turn signals are all wrong. The only hotel, or the only one the GPS picked up, is all the way at the top of this hill so, hoo boy, more conversation. Everything is way too idyllic to be comfortable. Where's the trash littering the streets? Graffiti? This is why he hated rich people...disgusting. He couldn't imagine a resident of this place, probably full of boring high school students content with a equally boring future laid out for them. 

“We should get more comfortable with each other. We’re a team now! See. Call me Tae.”

“...Kim Taehyung.”

A deep sigh. Jimin continues smiling. “Honestly, Youngjae, there’s no need to be so high strung. This post won’t be _anything_ interesting. They just send the lowest of the low off to recent activity, even though the supernaturals have probably moved on already anyways. It’s _so_ boring.”

“I’m...I’ll still do my best.”

“Honorable. Truly-oh my god, is that a candy shop?” Taehyung’s back against the window, “Youngjae, we’ve gotta stop. Right? We should go shopping.” Jimin gasps, nodding along, and now all eyes are on him.

They get to the hotel earlier than the GPS predicted.

 

//

 

Jaebum was hoping for a sweet good morning, but Jinyoung staring at the ceiling trying to hold back tears is probably what he deserves.

He springs into action, rolling over and holding the angel’s face, “Hey, _hey_ , what’s wrong, my love?” He hated to see him cry, around him, like his pain bleeds over onto his mind, for another headache.

“I wasn’t... _Jaebum_...I w-wasn’t supposed...”

“Relax...breathe, it’s okay...”

He manages through hiccups, “I had to _..._ I wasn’t supposed to...stay...” He breathes, glancing to his hands. “I missed you, more than anything...I’m so sorry.”

Oh.

Jinyoung keeps talking, but it’s incoherent, very melodic, but he’s still crying. He decides to just run his hands through his hair until he stops. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, leaning into the touch.

After a while, after the sunlight has faded into the heavy clouds and they haven’t bothered moving, or entertained the thought of separating, “Jinyoung?”

“Mm..”

“You alright?” He asks. Jinyoung barely lifts his head, clearly somewhere else. Jaebum finds his eyes drawn to his back, where the scars lay, somewhat worn in-not as swollen, or bloody, just jagged and old, drawing out those lines that fall along his arms. He wonders, how badly it must hurt. He wants to ask, if it’s a curse, but he doubts, there would be a satisfying answer. Jaebum finally feels his gaze.

The lines don’t cover everything. In fact, the placement reminds him of folded, flat, wings. Pressed into the skin, never to fly, like if he were to lift his arms, there’d be invisible feathers dropping from the wingspan. His body, mid torso and down, still smooth, creamy skin, almost a little too perfect. No moles, scars, stretch marks, nothing.

“Mmmm.” Jinyoung slides away from him, but not to leave, just for a better look. He obviously wants to say something, but either decides against it, or keeps it to himself. Jaebum decides to offer a smile back, to the harsh gaze.

“Anything for breakf...Oh, shit.” He sits up, and reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

Jinyoung looks after him. “What’s wrong?” His voice is a little scratchy. He reaches up and cradles his throat, averting his eyes.

“It’s um...” He scrolls through, “Jackson’s supposed to be coming for breakfast. You know he loves inviting himself everywhere. He’ll be so pissed at me...” They lock eyes again. Jaebum finds his eyes drawn back to the lines across his skin, and Jinyoung pulls the blanket around him, clearly thinking hard.

“What if I just go?”

“You don’t have to-"

“It’s fine.” Jinyoung’s bogus apathy always got on his nerves-after a burst of emotion, he always tries, and the keyword here is _tries_ , because he’s still trembling, to be stoic. Jaebum also knows at this point he’s probably not changing his mind, either. So he resigns. He’ll see him again, right? If his words last night had anything to do with it, they missed each other equally, though Jaebum’s heart still aches from betrayal. It’s hard to stay upset, when he’s right next to you though. 

“I um...have some of your clothes in my closet. In the box, near the top, and if you need to borrow any...”

He follows Jinyoung to the door as he adjusts Jaebum’s jacket, pulling the material close. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Where are you going?”

“You still work at the bar, right?” Jaebum nods, “Okay.” Jinyoung reaches up, rubbing his shoulders, “Stay safe, okay?”

 

//

 

Yugyeom’s a little pissed when he wakes up-cold, and with a stranger watching him. Someone definitely older than him, but handsome. Light hair with a rose tint.

 He springs up, clutching the blanket right to his chest. “Who are-"

“Good morning!” He holds out a hand. Against his better judgment, Yugyeom takes it, and rips it right away once he feels the shock, and the adult draws away, laughing.

“You’re a little naive, aren’t you!”

His patience is running thin. “Is this hell, or purgatory?”

“Purgatory. It’s a pleasure, Yugyeom.” No hand this time, just a blinding smile.

“What are you, Satan?”

“Oh, definitely _not_. I hate devils. I’m more on the line of,” He waves his hand, and a trail of light follows, “Virgil, I guess?”

“...What.”

“I’m _fae_! Like you. Oh, but I’m older than you. By a lot, _lot_ , and that’s why Yoongi called me, to help you, because I’m much _much_ -“

“ _Who_ , are you?”

“Right, _right_. I’m Kim Seokjin. But you can call me Jin-hyung, Jin, all encompassing leader, Jin, I am your father, Professor Jin, or Seokjin.”

He stares. Jin continues.

“Let’s start right away. You’re not naked, are you?”

“No, I-“ Jin doesn’t wait, snapping his fingers, and everything’s hazy. When he opens his eyes again, Yugyeom’s still in his pajamas, next to Seokjin, in a pretty, summery clearing. The most distressing part is that he can feel the moist soil under his toes.

He goes right in, “In the beginning...there were demons, angels, and then,” He throws his arms up, “Us! More or less. A little abridged.” Another gentle flash, and the lighting is suddenly twilight, and they’re in the middle of what Yugyeom thinks is a village, soft glowy buildings and light chatter.

“Think of it like this. We’re neutral in the spectrum, like twilight and most fae keep generally neutral alignments. Of course, unless you’re a half breed.” Jin finally gazes at him. “Are you?”

He’s too overwhelmed, so he shakes his head dumbly.

“Most fae live in villages like this. Just take a left turn at the faerie ring.” He gestures outwards, “Take a look around but don’t touch anything it’s all fake!”

He swallows. Hard. Jin keeps his all seeing grin. He’s slouching, so he can smile down at him. He continues,

“While the angels and demons were busy trying to kill eachother or what have you, most fae developed a nasty...hm, mischievous streak? And then humans came along, and of course, they’re _so_ fun to play with! Blah blah blah, human society, blah, blah blah, outnumbering us, and here we are today.”

“ _What_?”

“Fae history is really quite interesting and extensive; you should take a class on it. But this is just the crash course.” Another snap, and the increasingly familiar room is back in view.

He’s not sure how to process all of that information. Yoongi wasn’t kidding about this place. Jin brings up his wrist to check a watch that isn’t there,

“We’ve got seven hours together. I can’t _wait_ to get started. Young fae. The most impressionable, beautiful minds. Let’s take this outside. Get dressed, let’s go.”

Minutes later, they’re outside the cabin, and Yugyeom gets his first taste of sunlight in what seems like _weeks_. It’s early morning, and looks a little stormy, so it’s not much, but something. The first thing he notices as Jin walks out in the snow, towards the forest, is the spring of green he leaves in his step. And also how he waits for no man, and Yugyeom is focusing on not getting a boot stuck and falling on his face.

As they walk, they chat.

“Yoongs gave me the gist of your story, but is there anything you’d like to tell me? Teacher to student. Real confidential.”

 “No, I...there’s nothing. Um...” He searches for a name, “P-professor?" Ugh, that’s embarrassing. “How did you-"

“Get here? By car. Or, oh, Yoongi-get this-he used a crystal ball to get my attention. I was at home, chilling, and all of a sudden-Ooh! We’re here!”

A quick enough look, and Yugyeom can see it was the same forest clearing he and Jungkook had run off to that first night. Jin hops over to the frozen lake and peers down,

“This place is _perfect_. Our powers should be amplified here. It’ll be lovely for figuring out what you can do. Speaking of, what can you do?”

“I...don’t know.” He mutters as Jin stands up, and walks to him, only stopping when they’re face to face. “What do fae usually...do?”

Jin grins, “I like you, no limits.” He starts listing, animated. “Dream manipulation is a big one! Mental manipulation in general is a power most fae can tap into their lifetimes after training. But it starts with dreams.”

“Oh.” Yugyeom mutters, thinking back.

“Any ideas of what they could be?”

He stops to think, and his mind immediately goes to his suspension. “I...yeah, but it was...bad.”

Jin’s face darkens a bit, but he keeps his hollow smile. “ _Interesting_. Bad like how?”

“...Bad like I...Like I,” He points to his head, tapping, “Like I messed up his head.”

The adult gasps, bringing a hand to his lips, “OOOooh!” He starts circling around him, “Ooh, you’re strong for a young one. I know _just_ what to do with you. Sit.”

“In the snow?”

“Yes, yes, in the snow, sit. Let’s get to work, come on.” He points, and Yugyeom follows, a little regretful, a little worried. But, what's the worst that could happen, really?

 

//

 

In retrospect, in a bar serving alcohol is probably where he belongs. Ruining peoples lives, and then also providing a fun high.

The town is small, so the bar he works at is the highest rated on Yelp. Compared to the bar where all the alcoholics go to drown their sorrows, his bar is where people drown their sorrows in _style_ , with pretty bright red neon lights behind the bar that give the most ominous glow.

He had spent the entire day with Jackson-a lovely one, he might add, but there was a nagging question, and person on his mind, that left him feeling guilty and unable to try and enjoy the day fully. That’s not to include the nagging, 24/7 anxiety over the safety and happiness of his brother, but really, one thing at a _time_ , Jaebum.

As the sun was setting, and Jaebum took a step outside the house for the first time that day to head to work, Jackson got a phone call, and had to run off for a meeting. It’s a long winded way of saying that he’s alone in this bar, except for two usual patrons, and a glass he’s been cleaning for five minutes.

And staring out the window. The bar is situated perfectly on the hill to get a view of the lowering sun, and the rising moon. He loves this hour, the red sky blending into a purple. It’s also seven minutes away by his motorcycle, and of his night jobs, definitely his favourite. Most patrons didn’t show up, until an hour or two after his shift began, so he has a lovely...fifty-six minutes and thirty-eight seconds of reflection until three people walk in.

Quick note, Jaebum puts the absolute least amount of effort into his appearance, on this day. He left the house after ten or so hours of just lounging at home and watching movies. His hoodie is hanging unevenly off his shoulders, so that a side is riding up, and it’s kind of uncomfortable, but he’s too lazy to fix it, cleaning the bar. These are his third day in a row jeans. The grease holding his hair back, is the styling gel that was left on his comb from the last time he cared after going through it once. He’s pretty sure his sneakers are two different brands. The only thing he bothered to do was put in his earrings. And spending a night with the ex-lover? Not the best eye cream.

Of course, this is from his own perspective. He might not be giving himself credit.

That’s not the point, though. Three people walk in. Two kind of blend, but the third one with the bright silver hair and loud voice keeps them from fading into the background.

It’s his job. To talk to these people. They sit at the far end of the bar, Jaebum wonders why, because the damn place is empty, sit in front of the fucking bartender, but, okay.

The thing is, as he walks over, two of them gape and the third one, with longer black hair and his ears pierced to a t, just stares.

Awkward... “Hi, I uh, what can I get you three?” He vaguely gestures to the menu behind him.

The silver one breaks first, giving him a bright smile, “What’s your name?”

“Jaebum. Pleasure.”

“Likewise! Okay, this is Jimin,” He gestures to the other black haired one with a way too cute face, still staring at him, “Youngjaaaee,” The one with longer hair and the jewelry, “And, me, the most handsome, I’m Taehyung.”

He’s not wrong there. This guy definitely has an almost supernatural beauty about him. Reminds him of Jinyoung’s, just, sheer effortless perfection. Not as lovely _as_ Jinyoung in his humble opinion, however.

Jaebum figures he can milk them for tips, throwing on a smile. “Can I offer you three our signature cocktail?”

Taehyung doesn’t bother addressing the other two, “Oh, yeah, definitely! We came to sample the culture, what’s it called?”

“It sounds hella corny. Lucifer’s sweat? It’s basically just a Long Island iced tea with red food colouring and spice.” He mutters, Taehyung nods eagerly and he turns around to get started on the drinks,

As he comes to learn, the three are apparently just-college graduates who decided to go on a cross country trip to celebrate. When he asks what they majored in, they, and they being mainly Taehyung, because Jimin is practically drooling at the sight of him, and Youngjae seems to be staking out the place, change the topic, and turn it on him.

“Can you do shots for us?” Taehyung asks, “For fun? You look like you can take it with that build.”

“Are you paying?”

He nods with a big smile, and Jaebum shrugs, fishing out shot glasses, his favourite vodka and the tobasco.

After the fourth shot the silent one turns from glaring down the other patrons, to him. “What can you tell us about this town?” Oddly serious tone. Taehyung slaps his shoulder,

“Because we’re visiting! Sorry, Youngjae majored in physics and he doesn’t know how to be fun, anymore. But is there?”

“Ah...huh.” He pauses to think. “There’s...a twenty four hour roller rink at the edge of town. It’s fun when you’re shitfaced drunk. Or a date.”

“Oh my god, we have to go.” Taehyung mutters, “I’ve never even touched skates but we have to go-“

“I meant more like, the weird shit.” Youngjae interrupts, “...Because I...minored in paranormal studies. Just. Building...a thesis.”

Jaebum knows nothing about college. It was never, ever in his plans, because he figured he’d either 1) Be in hell by now, or 2) Be in the second layer of hell, by now. He’s not the biggest planner. Unfortunately becoming the prince of hell didn’t pan out, so. He’s here. On Earth. (This is an exaggeration. He wouldn’t decide to become a demi-god leader of one of the hells without Yugyeom. It’s just not right.) The point here being, he knows nothing of college, or the collegular, yes, collegular, system, but someone majoring in a hard science, and minoring in a soft one? Weird.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I can assure you I’ve never seen a ghost, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Most ghosts are...shy.” Youngjae adds lamely. Jaebum nods thoughtfully.  “Are there any well known Satanis-“ And Taehyung claps a hand over his mouth, smiling apologetically.

“Did I also mention Youngjae grew up, far, far away from most human beings and never quite mastered the art of conversation? It’s sad, really.”

Jaebum’s starting to realize he isn’t getting paid enough for this. Especially as one is analyzing him like a piece of meat. “About your other friend. Is he in a dissociative fugue or...?”

“Him?” Taehyung glances back to Jimin. “He’s fine. He and alcohol just don’t work, but what was that you were saying about Satanic rituals?”

Yeah. Not getting paid enough.

It takes another fifteen minutes of awkward questioning for Jaebum to get that they were trying to weasel their ways into the town’s supernatural scene which he avoids by taking every question super literally.

“Faerie ring? Like a ring of faeries?” Is all he has to say to Youngjae’s latest question, as the bell finally chimes and there’s a new person making their way to the bar. At the other end, of course. And finally, well deserved freedom from these three.

He slides over, “Is this why you asked me if I still worked here?”

Jinyoung shrugs a little, leaning against the bar. “I just wanted to get my thoughts together. And besides, I’ve never spent much time in here. Isn’t that funny?”

Jaebum’s always impressed with Jinyoung’s ability to compose, and subsequently, repress any, and all of his emotions. Not in a negative way, in one of those 'socially acceptable', men feel nothing ways. He doesn’t get emotional. Sometimes, it seems as if Jaebum’s own emotions sort of rub off onto him, but the angel can deflect those just as easily, it’s just that Jaebum can tell when he does, and he’s been doing it all day.

“Speaking of new things, is this your new thing?” He reaches over, pulling at the jacket, “You look good in leather, I’m not complaining. Just...different from your Holier Than Thou church clothes.”

He’s not _wrong_. It is different. But Jinyoung rolls his eyes anyways, “I always look good in your clothes,” He says. Jaebum swallows harshly.

“So different,” He murmurs,

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” His voice hides just the slightest twinge of anger in it’s melancholy. Jaebum figures it’s better to change the subject.

“It’s whatever you want it to be, um,” He vaguely gestures behind him, “What can I get you? I still do need to make money.”

Jinyoung gazes behind him, with a little 'oh' sound. Eventually he looks back to him, after reading for what seemed like forever. In his defense, it is a little hard to read against red neon if your eyes aren’t trained for it. “Water? But you can charge me for the most expensive, I don’t mind donating.”

“I’m sorry. You came to a bar and all you want is water?” Come to think of it, he’s not sure if he’s ever seen Jinyoung touch a lick of alcohol that wasn’t a small glass of wine. How...honorable. And he’s clueless if he thinks he’s really gonna charge him for water. Or charge him in the first place. But. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I could make you like, a really nice cocktail, in your taste. You know I know what you like.”

Jinyoung gives him one of his patient smiles, but with a bit of an edge. “The customer is always right, chop chop, babes.”

He presents the glass to Jinyoung with a little bow, “Only the best for my prince.” He adds, “It’s not tap.”

“Wow...Amazing.”

“Speaking of _amazing_. What did you have to tell me?”

Jinyoung pushes the glass to the side, readjusting the bar stool. It’s one of the creaky ones, so as much as he tries...Anyways. “Yes, it’s...I just wanted to talk out last night with you. I-“ Two hands wrap around Jinyoung’s shoulders all of a sudden, Jaebum was so engrossed with him, he didn’t notice any other customers.

Customers, well...

“Jinyouuungg! You’re real!” Jackson shakes his shoulders, leaning down, “I can’t believe it. It’s been months, and here you are. With Jaebum.”

Jackson gives him this look. It’s his, you’re a fucking, goddamn idiot Jaebum, and I’m gonna help you out of this look, but-

“Seunie, you want a drink? And you look so handsome. Did your meeting go well?” He tries to approach it as casually as possible, fishing his rag out of his pocket and cleaning an already clean glass.

Good thing Jackson’s distracted easily. He pulls away from Jinyoung, whose eyes are glued to the ground now, and takes the seat next to him, closer to Jaebum. “Dry martini, please. And, it went well! After my last media tour, I got variety show offers. Imagine. Me. On television!”

“Oh? Well, don’t forget the little people when you’re famous,” He muses, searching around for the materials.

“You act like I’m not gonna pack you in my suitcase and take you with me! It’ll be like-you know how like Ellen has her DJ? It’ll be you. Except with alcohol, I guess.”

Jinyoung catches his gaze, and while he and Jackson were talking, the angel had been glaring at his glass, leading Jaebum to believe he should be afraid of it cracking, although, “Don’t go too far away.”

“Why not? It shouldn’t really matter to you, Jinyoung.” Jackson says, casually, but the other maintains his frown.

“It does. Matter to me...because I’d miss him...too much.”

Jackson gapes, looking back to Jaebum as he avoids eye contact and slides the martini over.

He just pulls a hand through his hair. “Okay.” And takes a long sip. “Nyongie, I haven’t seen you at church at all. Or...seen you period.”

Ah. Church. Jinyoung tried to make him go to church with him once. He got burned, literally, and hid the underside of his hand for about two, three weeks. Because what’s subtle? Burning a cross into your hand. Thanks, God? And he had the shittiest excuse, too. _Babes, what happened to your hand?_ ...Skiing accident? It’s needless to say Jinyoung didn’t believe him.

And due to his physical inability to enter a church, to support one of Jinyoung’s interests, Jackson became one of Jinyoung’s church buddies, and had been going together for hm, a couple of months? A year? Whenever he was in town, more Sundays often than not. Until Jinyoung dropped off the face of the planet, of course. And then, there’s Jackson’s newfound bitterness, which is...interesting, he supposes.

“Because I haven’t been going.” Jinyoung mutters, Jackson continues,

“So, like, where have you been, then?” It sounds casual enough but Jinyoung scowls anyways. In all the time he’s known him, Jaebum’s never seen his temper that short. He had the patience and kindness of a saint. And maybe he should interject? ...But he wants to know just as bad.

“We’re friends. You can trust us, angel.”

Jinyoung has the strangest reaction as the word ‘angel’ falls off of his lips, shuddering and biting down on his lip immediately. Jaebum instantly feels guilty. Jinyoung looks up at him, and it’s like it’s just the two of them again.

“Am I still your angel?” His voice is soft, syrupy, without any of the hard edges he’d been getting for the past twenty four hours. Jaebum nods without really thinking about it. Of course he was. He hadn’t really moved on at all.

He’s one-hundred percent ready to fall back in, but a slap to his arm knocks him back into reality. Jinyoung still has a small smile, watching his hands, but Jackson is full on disappointment, holding his wrist across the bar.

Mediation, Jaebum. “Love, can you tell us?” Mediation, but he’s feeling warmth creep up into his chest and he can’t just deny the feeling of sweet, fluffy love falling back into his heart. He likes to call it the Jinyoung Effect. Totally at Jinyoung’s bidding, but he can try and further his agenda. And not have Jackson super pissed at him for being an idiot.

Jackson scoffs anyways, pulling his hand away and face palming.

Jinyoung keeps smiling. “I’ve just been around...”

 “Around? Around where?” His voice is probably too playful. Jinyoung’s smile is the same-just more mischievous.

Jackson stares right at him, blocking out Jinyoung’s presence. If only it was that easy... “Are you. Seriously just going to flirt...with your ex all night, Jaebongi?”

“I’m not flirting. I’m getting information.” He doesn’t bother turning to Jackson, continuing his analysis of Jinyoung’s new smile. He wishes he saw more of it last night. Or maybe it’s just different in this lighting? The way the shadows gather...

Jinyoung extends his smile to Jackson. Mischievous? It’s devilish, really. “We’re just talking, anyways. Does that bother you?”

“You’re a dick.” It’s serious, but Jinyoung laughs anyways.

“Don’t tell me...” He brings a hand to his lips in a mock gasp. “Scandalous. Seunie-“

“What _happened_ to you?” Jackson begins, “You’re so different.” He smiles wider. Jaebum can tell Jinyoung’s just mocking him, but why, and for what? Is it a defense mechanism? And it’s something, just, unnecessarily cruel that Jinyoung would have _never done_ and...it’s kinda hot.

“Am _not_. Right, babes? Still fucked you the same last night, right?”

Ahhh, shit.

“...Last night?” Jackson looks to him for clarification. “Is that what you were so busy with?”

Jinyoung answers for him, “Of course, he’s busy with me.” What happened to the guy from this morning, sobbing in his arms? What the _fuck_?

Jackson nods slowly, processing the information, reaching into his pockets, dropping a few bills on the bar and exiting the establishment. As he opens the door, he turns around,

“You guys? Honestly. Perfect for each other.”  And the bell tolls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if i told you i have chapters longer than this  
> would shorter chapters be preferable? lmk


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is um...earlyish...because i'm playing nier automata for the first time and i gotta know what happens uh see y'all in a week enjoy!!!

Bam presses into the headrest of the backseat, groaning. This dull, throbbing pain originating from the weirdass tattoo had _not_ stopped, and was only getting worse.

Jennie glances behind to him from the driver’s seat. “Are you okay, babe?”

He groans in response. Jennie looks to Lisa for help.

She pops her gum. “That’s dude for yeah. Left turn here.”

Bam had ended up spending the night over at Jennie’s, discussing their new...investigation. The night consisted of roasting classmates, and in the morning after they woke up sprawled across the basement floor, five minutes about Yugyeom, and the next logical person to visit would be;

Park Jimin. Yugyeom’s cousin. She’s really nice, but lives in the next city over and cares probably way too much for her younger cousin, and thus, knows, hopefully, where he is and how to get there.

The thing is, Jimin’s their age and everything, but Bam’s _never_ seen her with people her own age-just Yugyeom, and himself, the few times they’ve hung out. However, it’s easy enough to text her and get deets.

The next city over, as he likes to call it, is a bigger, buzzing metropolis. Not really, but it has more of a night scene, and apparently a good place for Jimin’s...comedy career? She tells them to meet her at a club.

As they approach the club,this is where Bambam realizes, he had fucked up, and it will be a long ass night.

It’s a comedy club. They’re in a comedy club, right now. Also, happening now and in 3D, is Jimin telling jokes on stage.

She’s...not bad. It’s just that nobody’s really laughing. Her sense of humor is unique. It fits well with Yugyeom. When they’re together, they just blend out jokes like comedy gods. Jennie and Lisa don’t know her, so they’re making snide, clever little comments and Bam awkwardly laughs them off.

Eventually Jimin gets off the stage to moderate applause, and Bam makes a beeline to her. Jimin’s talking with some weird, tall guy as he approaches, but she turns away offering a smile to him.

“Snake! It’s you.” She waves him right over. Jennie and Lisa glance at him,

“Snake?” Jennie asks, Bam shrugs, it’s one of his favourite nicknames, to be honest,

“Wow, you got taller.” She says. Jimin’s not much shorter than he is. The last time he saw her, they were indeed the same height. So. Yay. Puberty? “Oh, come here. There’s my table. Are those your friends?” He nods. And then leads them all off to this circular table near the back, by the bar. Her tall friend follows, settling down next to her once they’re all seated.

“Right. Jennie, Lisa, this is Jimin.” He does a quick gesture. The two girls nod,

“And this is my manager Jae. Hi. Anyways,” She glances to the table, to her phone. “What’s all this about, Bam?”

He just says it. He doesn’t like the atmosphere of this club.“We were wondering if you had the address to where Yugyeom was staying. The boarding school.”

Jimin nods slowly, digesting the information. “Yeah. I have  absolutely no clue.”

Jaebum watches Jackson leave. It takes a few moments to process the entire situation, but he’s unconsciously untying his apron to follow him. Jinyoung grabs his arm though,

“Aren’t you working?”

That’s true.

“You need this job, love.”

Also true, but he is allowed a ten minute break. It does remind him of the first time Jinyoung had popped up at this bar, memories creeping up.

Jinyoung didn’t fit into the environment at all. Not with his sunny smile, and gentle pitiful look as a regular stumbles by and  
he offers him a pamphlet. He approaches him after a while, having a conversation with the person and it resulting with the man leaving and an even brighter smile.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for the past five minutes.” Jinyoung comments, placing his hands against the bar cautiously, like he doesn’t want to ruin Jaebum’s ‘hard’ work. “Hi.”

“You look radiant, tonight, Jinyoung.”

He didn’t know it was possible for his smile to get sunnier.

“Do you mind if I pass out flyers?” Jinyoung asks, fishing papers out of his tote bag.

“So you didn’t come to spend time with me? I’m disappointed.”

Jinyoung smiles again, tracing circles into the bar’s wood and looking away. “Nooo...of course I did! But I gotta do this thing first, babes.”

“I don’t mind. What’s it for?”

“It’s that community gathering thing. Some of my students’ parents got me in on it, and here we are. I know people aren’t your _thing_ , but,” He slides over a flyer. Done by somebody who definitely didn’t major in graphic design. Jinyoung grins anyways, leaning further over the bar, grabbing his arm. “Don’t you have a break? Help me!”

And now, Jinyoung has that same smile, just a little more sinister, tired. Jaebum, when he first met him, he couldn’t believe such a person existed. But. Uh.

Jinyoung lets go of his arm, after rubbing it just to make sure he wasn’t hurt, and pulls back.

He rests his hand in his palm, glancing to the door. “Give him a couple of hours. We know Jackson.” And back to him, “I’m sorry.”

Huh.

“Why are you sorry _now_?”

“Relax, temper, temper.” He says, and continues. “Sometimes you just don’t think..” 

Deep breaths, Jaebum. “Really. You never had this problem before.”

“Oh, good one.” Jinyoung mutters, still avoiding his gaze. “That one burned.”

“Jinyoung. Can you just-" His phone rings. Technically, he’s not supposed to pick up, but it could be Jackson, so, “Hello? Seunie?”

“Uh, no. Oppa, it’s Jiminie. Hi!” Oh.

Jinyoung looks at him curiously. He decides to go and re-fill whatever Taehyung’s party was drinking, chatting on the way across the bar. “Hey, it’s good to hear you. Is everything alright?”  Wherever she was, it was particularly noisy, so that’s concerning.

“Oh, yeah, I’m not kidnapped or anything. One time only! Oppa, I tried calling Yugyeomie but it went straight to voicemail, what’s going on?”

He’s pouring shots again. Of the three, Taehyung seemed to be the worst at holding his liquor. Sad, but cute. “Ah, huh. Yeah, that’s a little tough to explain, Jimin.”

“Why does this sound so serious?”

“It kind of is, unfortunately.” He drifts away. Taehyung throws stray bills his way. “Hold on, one moment.” Jimin says a quick, ‘ok’, and Jaebum walks back to Jinyoung. “I’m going on break. Don’t be a smartass. Family. Just make sure those three don’t steal anything? I still trust you.”

He has such a strange dedication to his family. It’s hard to explain, because who grew up without parents? This guy! He might not have parents (Or parents that cared enough to um, not leave him in the mortal realm. Thanks...mom...dad.) He’s always wondered if it’s because demons often bind to people, or objects and that’s a remnant? He wonders if any, or, _all_ of his behavior has to do with his heritage. Like a cool little, nature v nurture experiment. He’s...thinking too much again.

And he’s outside. Autumn is such a nice season. Early autumn, when the leaves haven’t turned, but also it’s a little chilly and the moonlight has the perfect reflection off the streets.

“How can I explain this?”

“Um. Truthfully? Oppa, we’re the same. What is it? Like a...” She clicks her tongue, “Kinda thing?”

“Can’t discuss it over the phone kind of thing, Jimin. Let’s just say he’s away, incident at school. He didn’t tell you?”

“Not at all! What the hell? The last time we talked he didn’t say anything about an incident.”

“Ahh...well, how about, I was planning on heading up on my day off. Friday. It’ll be nice to see you.”

“Oppa, _I’m_ working on Friday.”

“You have a job?” He’s out of the loop. Really, really out of it. He’ll probably collapse from exhaustion(emotional, _and_ physical. It’s not a new occurrence.) in the next few days and then he can get his life back on schedule, maybe.

“Of course I do. I live alone?” She says, “Oppa, could you just give me the address? Can I just go up there?”

He feels bad, so, “Uhh...sure. Yeah, I can get that to you.”

Jimin shows them her phone, a few minutes later, a long ass address highlighted in a pretty long ass text thread. Bam doesn’t care to read much of whatever Jaebum had to say to her, and Jimin doesn’t seem keen either, just pointing out the address and pulling the phone away from the other three a second later.

She sighs, “Jaebum-oppa is really gullible. I kind of feel bad.”

“He was being a di-" He should...probably monitor his language. (Yugyeom would kill him. Kill. Him.) “We should go. Like...tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Friday.” Jennie interrupts,

“We should go...now?” Bam asks,

Jimin shakes her head, still reading through the texts. “Can’t do that. Oppa says there’s a strict visiting schedule or whatever. Nine to five.”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” Lisa groans, resting her head on the table,

“Why is this so _suspicious_?” Jennie supplies,

“I _mean_.” That’s what he’s been saying since the beginning of this whole mess. Goddamn Im Jaebum. “Ugh. We gotta get there before _he_ does.”

Jimin stares at him. “I get that you guys want to make sure Yugyeom’s okay, but Jaebum-oppa isn’t a bad person...” She continues, “Granted, this is a little strange.”

Bam’s starting to think going to Jimin with this might have been a bad idea. But it’s a little too late now.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Jennie bursts, tapping her two companions, “Let’s just stake the place out. Right?”

“I _have_ to go.” Bam kind of jumps from the sudden slamming noise, supplied by Jimin. “I’m coming. Are you going now?"

Bam gets a text from his foster father, a simple, _wya_. Jimin’s sitting next to him half asleep, and they’re traversing dark mountain tops. They haven’t seen another car for miles, but the GPS couldn’t possibly be wrong. There’s been one gas station, but it was pay and go. Jennie suggested parking there for a nap.

He just tells him he’s at Jennie’s house.

Foster dad texts back, _use a condom_.

Okay.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Lisa mutters. She has her feet kicked up against the dashboard, crossing with Jennie’s as the driver leans back, on her phone, clearly not listening judging by the music blasting from her headphones.

“For my friend, of course. It’s not everyday you’re sent to a creepy boarding school.” He tries to joke, but really, he’s serious.

“Creepy boarding school my ass. I bet it’s normal as fuck.” Lisa turns back to look at him. “I didn’t think you even cared about stuff like this, y’know?”

“...Like what, do you mean?”

“ _Friends_. You’re always with different people whenever I see you. Like a little chameleon.”

Oh. She does have a point.

“Am I right?” She laughs a bit, “I get it. It’s hard finding your niche.”

He nods a little. “My identity is lost on myself, to be honest.”

“Mm.” It’s an agreeing, ‘mm.’ Helps calm his anxiety. “But, we _are_ here for a reason, right. What is this, like, a last stand against a childhood friend. Crush? Frenemy? You said y’all were friends, but-"

“We’re _friends_ ,” Probably said that too quickly. “Since. Forever.”

“You had us just drive into the middle of nowhere, for a _friend_ , Bam?”

Not really thinking, “More than that.”

“ _Oh?_ Should I tell Jennie?” She reaches a hand out to the driver,

“Notlikethat.” He’s smashing his words together. Next he’ll start sweating in a freezing fucking car.

“Sure. Okay. Secret’s safe with me. Maybe there’s a closet around here for you to hide in.” She doesn’t mean it maliciously, but it does sting. Jennie moves to take off her headphones, “Let’s continue this later.”

Lisa goes back to her resting position, but Jennie turns in her seat now, “Bam-ah. Is Yugyeom’s brother that hot guy with the motorcycle?”

“...Yeah?” He is, in fact a hot guy with a motorcycle. A good name.

“My ex's homeroom teacher was dating this hot guy with a motorcycle...I practically stalked the guy get a view of that fucking _motorcycle._ It was a masterpiece.” She sighs, “Just a mechanical marvel...”

Huh. It takes him a minute or two to recall the name of the guy. Yugyeom talked about them a lot, but...he must not be a very good friend. “I think his boyfriend’s name was Park Jinyoung?” Bam offers,

Jennie clicks her tongue, “Yeah, that’s right! Park Jinyoung. Wasn’t there a Mr. Park at school, last year? Huh. This is getting interesting.”

“Jinyoung?” Guess Jimin wasn’t asleep after all. Wait. Does that mean-“Talk about an obnoxious couple. I went to visit Gyeomie when he was sick and Jinyoung didn’t let me touch a hair on his head. My cousin! _Mine_!” She sighs, “God...!I’m still bitter.”

“Oh...that’s...horrible.” Jennie comments quietly, “Uh...yeah.”

Everybody just meshes so well together. Nothing could possibly go wrong in this endeavor. To...

Huh. He didn’t really think he’d get  this far, to be honest. Guess it pays to have capable friends, he really appreciates it.

He wants to thank them, but as he opens his mouth, Jimin’s asleep again and Jennie’s back on her phone. His gratitude could probably wait until morning, anyways. But, ugh, his chest is really starting to hurt...

 

//

 

Yugyeom’s nose just won’t stop bleeding. He passed out, that’s what Jin told him, and he woke up on that one couch in the common room with the fae fanning him. The common room, is just that. It has an uncomfortable wood-based couch, a huge circular rug in the middle, bookshelves on bookshelves, and scattered recliners that belonged in an old Hollywood movie, by how pretty, yet dysfunctional they were. The lighting, however, was all candlelight, and that gave the room a somewhat dangerous, but cozy feeling. But right now, it was sickening.

“Oh, good. You’re fine! Well...objectively.” He says, brushing hair off his forehead. Cautiously, like he didn’t want to touch it.

Everything’s slow. Like walking through water. “Objectively...what do you mean _objectively_?”

“Okay, well, I kind of overestimated your tolerance. Everybody has one for energy, right? But you’re _fine_. I mean, you’ll be fine. Just a little...okay, don’t panic or anything, but your nose is just, profusely bleeding...violet.”

“...What?”

“You’re bleeding violet.”

“ _Come again_?”

“Your blood. Is purple. Are you sure you’re just fae?” Jin asks. Yugyeom’s sure that he’s really just losing it. He doesn’t have blue fucking blood. Is he even human? First the magic hair change. Now his blood. And the entire whole, supernatural thing.

Jin goes on, as Yugyeom tries to process...anything, he can feel the liquid, slipping, dripping down his face. “For some of us, like, your genetics can be latent. It’s weird, but some people can just go their entire lives without-oh, hey, don’t do that.” Jin gently removes his hand, holding it down. “Don’t scratch at your skin, it won’t help.”

Yugyeom would be impressed at Jin’s sudden helpfulness, if he didn’t want to get the _fuck_ out of this dream— _nightmare_ immediately.

What he does notice, is Yoongi sitting in the back corner, watching him, playing with a deck of cards, cutting it multiple times. Jin’s on his _fourth_ , relax, when he stands up. The candle next to him blows out from the sudden movement.

“Hyung, you can go. I’ll take care of this.” He shoves the deck into his pocket, approaching the two. In the dark, the strangest shadows contort and pass over his face.

Jin gets out of his chair and steps away, bowing his head quickly, “I hope we can work together again, Yugyeom. Okay? Stay safe.” He leaves, and Yoongi takes the chair, that, honestly, Yugyeom didn’t notice right next to him. He leans back, the legs of the chair rising up.

“Let’s talk. How are you feeling?”

“ _Um_. Bad?” At least his (Well. Jaebum’s) dry sense of wit will never leave him, even in times of crisis. Now that Jin isn’t holding his hand back, he brings it up, but decides against it. It’s...definitely a bad idea.

“It’ll get better. I know this may be a bit overwhelming right now, but, Yugyeom, I was talking with your brother...” He begins, “You have such a strange set of powers, we came to the decision, that, an extended stay would be the best course of action. For the foreseeable future.”

No way. “ _My_ brother said that? No fucki-...No way.” Listen, on the things that were keeping him going, number one was going back home to his family (brother), eventually and the second was Jungko-okay, let’s say _everybody_ ’s friendship here. Belonging is nice.

“It’s really just for your safety. Jin and I explained what happened outside today-" But _he_ doesn’t remember what happened. He’s drawing, yet another blank right now, “-And we both want you to be safe.”

Really...his safety. Jaebum would do that to him, _again_? Granted, the first time they were separated, it wasn’t Jaebum’s fault. It was the government. But still...after all they went through... “C-can I talk to him?” It’s more of a plea, than anything, but Yoongi gives him a little sigh,

“No, that’s probably not a good idea. It’s around one AM. Why not wait until morning?”

Yoongi takes the silence for a yes, and gives him a-not really a smile, but something close to it look, and holds out a hand to pull him up.

There’s a knock at his bedroom door later, but he really can’t answer it.

 

//

 

Jaebum’s closing the bar. It’s taking longer than usual, because Jinyoung won’t stop talking for a second. But, really, it’s his fault.

After he came back in from calling Jimin, Jinyoung said he was bored of water and wanted to try something new. Free reign. He didn’t know what caused the change, but, he made him a strawberry daiquiri. Sweet, not too dangerous.

Anyways. Guess an angel’s alcohol tolerance is low, because Jinyoung’s been way-too-chatty for the past, two, two and a half hours, saying a whole lot of _nothing_. Of course, it’s just the two of them, because Jaebum locked the door about a half an hour ago, and, honestly, this town’s nightlife isn’t the most enchanting. Nobody goes to a bar at one thirty unless they have business in this town.

Jinyoung’s still talking, he’s half listening. “My momms funeral was the worse of the two...The church was too dark. I think about sl’that all the time, now.” Jinyoung murmurs, but his voice is a little muffled, because of the way he’s resting his head on his hand. “All of the churches are too dark...”

“Jinyoung, can I drive you home or something?” Although, buzzed, tipsy (or is he just buzzed?) person on his motorcycle might not be the smartest idea. He could rock it, though.

“No, ‘sfine.”

“Taxis don’t run this late around here.” He tries, Jinyoung shrugs. “Where are you staying? I’ll just drive you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Oh, goddamnit. Goddamn it, Jinyoung. And curse his infernal attachment to this guy, too. “So, my place again?” He asks casually.

“ _No_ -I...”

“Come on, let’s just go. I have to go out in the morning, I can’t take care of you all night, Nyongie.”

“I...Fine. I’ll go with you.” He sighs, but smiles just a bit.

“Lovely. Sit tight, Let me just finish up here.” He has to lock up the cash, and as he wanders to the back room, his phone rings. Amazing that it’s still alive, but hey.

He only picks up because it’s Yoongi. “Hello?”

“Hello. I apologize for calling so late-"

“It’s fine. Is something wrong?”

“Sort of. It’s just a health update. Yugyeom seems to have caught a cold, probably not used to the high altitude, but, I just wanted to let you know. If you were planning on visiting anytime soon...”

“Oh. I was planning on tomorrow...today. I’ll just bring his favourite things-he’s quite particular when he’s sick, to be honest-"

“It might be better to just let him rest.” He says quickly. “So that you don’t get sick as well, of course. Very contagious.”

“Ah huh...I mean, I’m coming anyways. Don’t really care if I catch a cold. Now, if that’s all, I really oughta get home. Goodnight.”

Jinyoung’s still muttering against his bar when he gets back. That very melodic, eurhythmic voice of his that, honestly, would be perfect for a lullaby. And balancing him on the motorcycle was just about as difficult as you’d think.

 

//

 

 

Mark doesn’t really get many visitors, especially when he’s working. (Although, maybe it’s his own fault for recording so late. On a Thursday, alone.) Jackson knows this, and yet, he still knocks on the door.  Why not? He opens the door, peeking through, and his eyes widen in surprise. 

“Jackson?” Sheepish wave. “You’re in town?”

“Yeaaah...that’s me. Hi! What are you doing?” He tries a bright smile, but he doesn't really think it fits right. 

“Working. Taking apart stuff. Usual.”

“Oh? Right that um, thing you do. Uh, I can go if-"

This is weird. Jackson strives to be, really just a take it if you want it kinda guy, and he’s just...not right now. It's hard. Mark moves aside, opening the door wider, “Come in? There’s like some pizza in the kitchen if you’re hungry, I’ll be in my office finishing up, then we can hang.”

It takes about a half an hour, and Jackson is rummaging through his fridge for the booze when he gets into the kitchen.

 He’s in the freezer now, pulling out a carton of ice cream, “Oh, are you done?”

“Mm. What are you looking for?”

“Ice cream. Vodka.”

“...Are you _okay_?” He asks. Jackson looks at him, and then goes off to find a spoon, roughly tearing off the carton’s top and sticking it in as soon as he finishes rummaging through his silverware. “Gaga, what’s wrong?”

Jackson cringes at the childhood nickname, but continues on with his search, to the cabinet where Mark definitely kept the alcohol. Mark lets him, just watching with this concerned, but wanting to see where it would lead kinda look, his eyes following Jackson around his kitchen.

His friend finds the vodka, screwing the top off and taking a swig. He drops the bottle onto the counter, where he left the ice cream and finally starts speaking,

Jackson didn’t plan to end the night sobbing into Mark’s arms, but, here we are.

It’s fitting-it’s just started raining outside. He can only tell because it’s _pouring_. The way Mark’s house is situated, at the top of the hill, (codeword for _rich_ ), you can never tell if it’s drizzling, like at Jaebum’s house where you can hear every drop of rain against the roof, and also Jaebum himself leaning against one of the windows and cursing the lake if it dares to flood.

He’s hurting, but strangely enough his body feels numb. He’s crying, but the tears are mostly streaming silently down his face. It’s...a weird experience, because when he cries-he _cries_. Hiccupping, sobbing, the hoarse voice, everything. He’s a little disturbed by it...

Mark’s a good friend, though. One of the best. Because he’s just letting Jackson wet his (probably) designer clothes with no complaints, just petting his hair.

He sighs, finally. “This sucks.”

“Mm.” Mark begins, weaving fingers in and out of his hair. It would be nice, if he could feel anything right now. “Gaga, you’re leaving in a few days anyways. Maybe just try to forget everything?”

“No, I-" It’s true. He has a wealth of opportunities in front of him, but would he dare try to run away and leave the people who would probably care about him the most? “I think I should postpone my trip, to be honest...”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because...I wanna know why Jinyoung just appeared all of a sudden...” And maybe to help Jaebum. “It’s just weird to me.”

“I mean, I guess. They’ve both always been a little off. Not, uh, to be...rude? Love JB to death.”

He recalls what Jaebum told him, one, two days ago in the café. A demon. Fucking hilarious-ridiculous. But it makes sense. There was no way that man was human. Should he tell Mark...?

“It’s like they’re from different planets, to be honest.” Mark says, patting his shoulder, pulling away and getting up.

“Or dimensions.” Mark nods in agreement, yawning, and searching around for one of the clocks on the wall. Jackson is honestly in awe of how he can live alone in such a big house. The very idea makes him nervous.

“You gonna stay the night?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be alone.” He says quickly, and Mark nods again, giving him one of his patented soft, ‘I Understand Everything’ ™ smiles.

“All right. Well, I have some editing to do, so I won’t be up for a while, but you know where everything is?”

He nods. Mark smiles again, and disappears into his office with a little wave.

And now he’s alone in this expensive ass living room. It’s...what, nearly two AM? He’s entertaining the thought of sleep, but he also really wants to walk in the rain.

Nothing to control his impulse control, so he’s almost out the front door, staring down the glowing, rainy streets when his phone rings.

Odd. Two AM calls aren’t really...a thing, of his.

It’s Jaebum’s number. “...Hello?”

“Oh, you’re still awake?” That’s not Jaebum’s voice. Too playful.

“I mean...why else would you call me?” He mutters. A car drives by, disrupting the reflections.

“Leave a voicemail. This is fine, too, of course. Ah...I feel like we haven’t had a conversation in forever, Seunie!”

He’d love it if earlier tonight was a distant memory, too. “Uhuh. Why is this happening, right now? Why are you using Jaebum’s phone?”

“Oh, I couldn’t find my phone and Jaebum’s asleep. I think he crashed. He fell asleep on me. Isn’t he so cute? Don’t you agree?”

He stays quiet,

“That’s not very sportsman-like of you. Just because he’s _mine-"_  Jinyoung stops, coughing. “I have a request of you.”

“...Yeah? And what if I just tell you to go fuck yourself?” 

“Not an unreasonable request.” No words. “Can I-"

“Did you just like go on a bender and lose all senses of responsibility?” Jackson asks, “Have a psych break, cheat on Jaebum, addicted to drugs, what was it?”

His voice loses that cocky edge for just a moment, stumbling  on his next sentence. “I, ah, guess it would, uh be classified more as a nervous breakdown. In your terms.”

“In _my_ terms? Jaebum already told me about-well, I don’t know quite what you are. A ghost that never moves on? Point is, I know you’re not human.”

“Oh, did he? How irresponsible of him. I’m sure we’ll talk about that later.” _Ugh_. He’s infuriating.

Jackson presses, “Well, what are you?”

“Right now? I’m a little tired. I had a fun night, though. Jaebum is just the sweetest when he’s sleeping. Did you know he snores? Probably not, as I think about it.”

He groans audibly this time, “I’m really going to hang up if you just wanna parade Jaeb-"

“Certainly not. You find me _that_ shallow, Seunie? I’m hurt. Haven’t you ever been in love? It’s such a wonderful feeling...”    

Is this really happening right now...

“You should work on your jealousy streak, my love.”

He can find the anger, “Oh, fuck right the fuck off.” He feels like he could have worked a few more fucks in there, but, alas. Maybe he can just _feel_ him flipping him off.

“If you’d join me,” He taunts, “Jackson, you never let me get to my request...” He whines lightly. Jackson almost has to take a double take. His foot slips a bit on the wet concrete. 

“Will you leave me alone, if I hear you out?”

“For the night, sure.” Ugh. He hates his confidence, just dripping through the phone. “I’d  actually like to see you tomorrow— _today_ , to talk. I’ll tell you all my secrets!”

Oh, fucking hell.

“...Why would I do that?”

“Hmmm...” He pretends to think. “I happened to notice that new ‘tattoo’ of yours. Sucking all of the energy right out of you, huh? Tattoos fucking hurt, I’ve heard.”

What... “How would you _possibly_ know that?”

“Just a guess. If I were you see you in person, I can confirm a few things, of course. And you can help me! _And_ I happen to know of the object of your affection, really quite well, so I may be able to assist in that department as well, love.”

Something’s really wrong...here. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, you won’t take him away from me, but you deserve a fair shot. Don’t you agree?”

Speechless. Again. The enigma that is Park Jinyoung.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I can’t wait. Keep your head up. See you later!”

  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow five chapters already!

Jaebum wakes up and he’s alone. It’s still dark outside, but the sun is on the horizon, and the windows are foggy with cool rain.

The clock says it’s about five-thirty in the morning, so he has about an hour or so until he should really get on the road. It’s already storming, so hopefully, it won’t get worse. He hates driving in the rain...

His phone isn’t where he left it. Maybe it’s in his room, though? As he heads over, two things catch his attention. It is raining, really, really hard, and,

He knocks on the bathroom door, to the sound of the shower starting, “Jinyoung are you in there?”

It takes a few seconds, “Yeah? Would you like to join me?”

“Um...No?”

“That’s too bad. I’d love it if you would.” He’s hoping he heard that wrong.

“Yeah-I mean, ugh, do you have my phone?”

“It’s on your bed. I plugged it up for you. When are you going out, anyways?”

“Later,” He pulls away from the door, “I’m just gonna...go...get it.”

He’s trying to negotiate a few days off with his boss over email when Jinyoung finally appears buttoning up his jeans. Jaebum notices that the markings are starting to snake up the back of his neck. (Just an assumption, since he hasn’t turned around completely. It looks like it’s choking him.)

“Can you help me cut my hair?” He asks, pulling at some strands. With his hair wet, the style gives off a more...he looks lost, playing with the strands like he’s just realized something.

“You don’t need my help for that, do you?”

“For the back...I want it more even. Come on, love. I don’t like this.” 

So that’s how they end up ten or so minutes later with the sun rising darkly behind them, Jinyoung sitting between his legs after pulling on one of Jaebum’s t-shirts and Jaebum hovering the scissors unsure.

“I’m not a hairdresser.”    

Jinyoung sighs, grabbing his thigh and rubbing. “You say like cutting hair is a science. It’s a trim, and you’re helping me. It's really not that hard.”

Maybe, but that doesn't make it any easier. He’s doing as told, and he doesn’t even want to cut his hair, so he tries to cut about an inch, or maybe an inch and a half. At least, that can’t be ruined. Jinyoung seems disappointed but satisfied enough, he doesn’t bother looking in a mirror (naturally pretty people. Disgusting.) He just leans back against Jaebum’s chest and his breath against his neck makes him shiver.

“Are you going, soon?” Why...why do they need to be this close to have a conversation?

“I should be,” He coughs,

“The weather’s bad. You should spend more time with me.”

He’s right about one thing, at least. He’s getting a little sick of all of Jinyoung’s gentle prodding. It worked once. Not again. After last night? “You’re right. It’s probably not a good idea to drive right now.” He says, dropping back against the bed with a sigh. “Where have you been?” He tries, if he has him here, he can get him to talk without being so mysteriously avoidant, right?

Jinyoung scrambles upwards, looking to him. “I went on a trip.”

“Are you being serious?”

“I have no need to lie to you, my love.” He gives him a look. Jinyoung runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back and joining Jaebum, placing his head against his chest, wrapping an arm around his torso. Naturally, Jaebum pulls him in closer. “Don’t worry about it...” He doesn’t mind being close, as he minds the words falling off his tongue like sweet poison. Or a spell, to bind them together, for eternity.

It’s like chipping away at concrete...

“Hey,” Jinyoung starts suddenly, “Do you really like Jackson? Do you think you could...” He swallows harshly, “...love him?”

Silence is probably enough of an answer. He wants to be honest, but he also realizes a second too late how much that would hurt him. Jinyoung nods slowly, breaking eye contact, trying to pull thoughts together.

Uh, fuck. What can he say...?

Love? Can he say that? Would he want to commit to that?

 

//

 

Yugyeom hates waking up and feeling like he’s been knocked out by a boxer twelve-times over—with the flu.

Like, fuuuuuuck this. At least the clock never stopped ticking. It’s early morning, but still dark outside because, snow, probably. Room’s empty. As expected. And the night was uncomfortably dreamless, but he’ll table that discomfort for when it feels like his brain isn’t bashing against his skull.

As he stands, everything aches. He has to sit back down immediately, his head is swimming.

A quick glance out the window, and it’s snowing, as he thought. Heavily. Probably on the verge of being a blizzard, and he can barely tell that it’s morning from the darkness.

It’s...kind of nice, though. Feels natural. He wouldn’t mind days like this...maybe it’s the headache talking.

He can’t explain it. Working with Jin yesterday was...amazing. Like he stumbled upon some potential locked away. Or, well, he actually  _did_. 

He has power. He really does.

Feeling so powerless for most of his life, no parents, no brother for the longest time, no friends...And he has something special about him, that nobody can take. He has _something_.

And that something, has him hurting like a motherfucker.

With great power, comes even greater pain, he guesses. The wind howls against the windows, and honestly, it’s one of the nicest sounds he’s heard. He has a complicated relationship with storms. He and Jaebum always had some weird affinity to them. It’s sort of how they bonded after meeting again. Jaebum driving to, what would be _their_ home through the rain until he couldn’t anymore, and talking through the wind, learning new things about each other until it was safe again.

One of his favorite memories, god, how odd. It makes him happier just thinking about it.

When he opens his eyes again, it’s overcast, but darker. A quick glance to the clock, it was later into the morning.

That’s weird. No one came to wake him up?

He gets up this time, head still aching. He finds something to wear. Shirt, jeans. A hoodie he stole from his brother forever ago. As he’s pulling it over his head, he goes to open the door, but it opens for him.

Jungkook looks uncharacteristically glum. Just a built in frown. His hair’s messy and his clothes look haphazardly thrown on. He looks up at him.

“Yoongi said to come get you,”

He ignores that part, worried for his new friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...tired.” He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I—"

“No, really. You can tell me.”

He looks away this time, throwing his hands into his pockets, “I just,” He takes a deep breath, “Really wanna be good friends with you and Yoongi said you were leaving in like two months and I don’t want you to go because I really li—"

“Whoa-" He starts, and then takes a moment to process. Jungkook looks back to him, again. “Actually. I’m not going...for who knows how long.”Thanks. Yoongi. 

“ _Really_?”

“Yeah...so we can be friends. Even when I go, we should still be friends, I-" Jungkook hugs him quickly. Yugyeom realizes that he really needed one. “Thanks,”

“Thank _you_.”  He squeezes him, then pulls away. “Yoongi just said he wanted to talk to you in his office. I hope we can talk later.”

“Mm. Yeah, definitely! Thanks again,” Jungkook moves aside, smile returning, and Yugyeom exits, heading down stairs and back to those double doors leading to Yoongi’s office. He knocks, and the door opens immediately. The office is even darker, the large windows supplying little to no light in the storm, just offering an eerie grey-blue glow over the room.

He does a bit of a double take, but offers a business smile anyways.

“How are you feeling?”

“...Not good?”

“To be expected. Make yourself comfortable, I just had something to give you.”

He just follows Yoongi to his desk, as he fishes something out of it. He presents Yugyeom with a necklace. Simple in design, it’s like a compass rose. He hands it over with an easy explanation.

“It’s a protection charm. Simple, but effective.”

Huh. Okay... “Why are you giving it to me, though?” Yugyeom looks it over a second more, deciding to hang it off his belt instead. Yoongi looks somewhat disgusted, but says nothing.

“You’ve had a hard week, kid. Just a gift from me to you.” He plasters on that smile again, “You hungry? Breakfast?”

“No...I’m fine, thanks.”

“Are you sure? Eating well is the key to success.” He insists. Yugyeom shakes his head again, and he shrugs. “Alright. You’re free for the day. Don’t do anything stupid-"

The office doors open. Namjoon looks a lot different in the morning, he’s really not built for it, today. He gives them both a quick smile. “There are some guests. For you, actually, Yugyeom.”

Huh... “Guests?”

“In this fucking weather?” Yoongi groans.

Who would Jaebum bring with him? (Because. Let’s be honest. Who else cares enough about him to drive into some mountains.) He starts to follow Namjoon out, but Yoongi stops him,

“Go wait in the commons room or something. We’ll bring them to you. We have processes.”

...Fine. That’s understandable. He can wait to see his brother and...Maybe Jackson? Mark?

They separate at the door of the office, Namjoon and Yoongi going left, and Yugyeom wandering in the hallway for a minute or two, trying to hear anything, before resigning for the common room. Jungkook was here, doing that wood carving thing again. Sooyoung was folding paper, practicing origami, laid out across the floor, Changkyun next to her leaning on her shoulder paging through a book.

Basically, they look bored. Jungkook has that whole, uncomfortable couch to himself. As soon as he enters though, Sooyoung’s head snaps up.

"Yugyeom!” She exclaims, dropping a half-folded crane. Changkyun does the same, but folds the page for a placemarker and turns to attention.

“Bro, you look like hell.” Changkyun comments. “Did you like, get the flu or something?”

“Yeah, like, _super_ pale. Translucent, kinda. Worse than Yeri.” She pauses. “Not, like, in a bad way-" She sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. What’s up?”

“Not much, really.” Jungkook kicks his legs off of the couch, patting the space next to him. He goes over, and not even a second later, Jungkook kicks his legs over and on top of him, continuing his work. He leans onto the armrest, facing the two “You guys?”

“Meh. It’s pretty boring around here, to be honest. You’re like, the most interesting thing in weeks.” Sooyoung says, resuming her origami.

“What do you guys even do here?” He asks,

Changkyun picks up his book, thumbing through it. “Learn. But it's Friday, so no schedules. It’s like, advanced homeschooling for freaks. Yoongi probably just wants you settled in and then you’ll get a schedule.”

“Learn, like what?”

“Basics, dealing with annoying humans, and then things catered to what you are, of course! Personally, I like it.” Sooyoung comments, she finishes her crane and picks up another piece of paper, sparkly and red. “I never really fit in at my school, and then people started dying around me so. Got the hell outta dodge quickly, right?”

Oh.

Changkyun cuts in, “Joy, you can’t just tell the story like that. It sounds like a horror story.”

“You afraid of ghosts, Yugyeom?” He shakes his head, she snickers anyways, “Jaehyun is like, the least ghostly-ghost you’ll ever find. But, yeah. This place is fine. We all get along great, right, Changkyunnie?”

“I got bullied out of high school, so, yeah, it’s better than that. We get along fine.” He reads Yugyeom’s expression, and gives him a shy smile, “I’m nothing dangerous. Just...lame.” He waves his hand, and a small flame emerges from his fingertips. “Oooh, Changkyun. You can light a candle with your fingers, you’re so cool! _Not_.”

He has to be underselling himself, but he turns to Jungkook, wrapping a hand around his leg and shaking. “And you?”

“He never tells us shit.” Sooyoung groans, Changkyun nods in agreement.

He tilts his head upwards, looking at the two on the floor, and to Yugyeom. “Nothing special.” He goes back to his carving, hair covering his expression. Yugyeom’s about to call bullshit, but he keeps talking. “I never went to a normal school. I’ve always been homeschooled, so this isn’t that different.” Oh...huh, maybe that’s why he was so interesting? “I dunno, though. I think it’s my parents fault why I’m like this.” He mutters, and Yugyeom wants to ask a follow up question, but footsteps start down the hallway. Yugyeom feels uncomfortable suddenly.

“Huh. That sounds like a lot of people.”

Oh? Would Jaebum bring Mark _and_ Jackson...?

Yoongi peeks in first, hanging around the edge. “Afternoon. Yugyeom, Sooyoung, Changkyun, Jungkook.” He stops, glancing behind him, “You’ve got visitors, Yugyeom. Have fun.” He gives a quick wave to the rest of the kids, and slinks off. Four figures enter the room and,

Ugh. _Seriously_? His headache kicks in tenfold.

 

//

 

Jinyoung loves being encased by Jaebum’s warmth. He is a natural furnace after, all. No matter how cold he was being, he’s still holding him close. Spending the last hour trying not to over think and-he loves him, Jaebum wouldn’t hurt him like that, right? Over _Jackson Wang_? Right? They’re destined to be together. So he still manages to smile. There might have been tears. But he loves him, so it’s okay.

He’s gotten used to the constant aching pain but sometimes it’s overwhelming in idleness. So he focuses on something he loves.

Jaebum seems to be completely unaware of Jinyoung’s eyes on him. To be fair, his eyes have drifted to taking in and memorizing the curves of his lips.

It’s raining. It’s been raining. It provides a nice enough layer of white noise as to not think too much. And a lazy morning like this?  He constantly dreams of it. He glances up, and he notices that Jaebum’s just been emailing through his phone, something about his job. A guess, though.

“Is everything alright at your job?” He asks softly. His voice gives away the obvious though, too creaky from disuse.

Jaebum glances at him from the corner of his eye, “Were you crying just now?” Right. Jaebum in his own right is extremely observant. He doesn’t say anything else though, just reaching down and wiping his cheek with his thumb. Jinyoung decides to look away, placing his head back on his chest. “I have to get going soon.” He hates feeling this vulnerable, naïve, _foolish_.

Before, like when he didn’t have to deal with these conflicting emotions. It was simple. He had a job, he helped people for a living, and he had Jaebum. Easy. He’s not clueless, but he can admit that...he _was_ oblivious to a lot of things. As an example, 

Jaebum just looks at him, closing his book. “I’m sorry, angel, _what_ did you say you were curious about?” It was a nice day, edging into summer, but way too hot for spring. Bright outside, sunny, comfortable, but in desperate need of ice cream. They stick together everytime they touch. Jinyoung doesn’t hate it, but he’s probably going to buy Jaebum an air-conditioner. If not for him, for Yugyeom.

“...I don’t understand.” He starts, “One of my colleagues _asked_ me if I was into, quote unquote, ‘the kinky shit’ and then I-"

His boyfriend just stares. “ _At school_?” He doesn’t see many of his co-workers outside of school. He’s apparently intimidating in goodness, and seems like a boring time, that’s what one told him. It makes sense, he supposes. He knows he definitely no fun to drink with.

“Maybe it was supposed to be a joke.” Jinyoung says, “But I had no idea what they were talking about, so I asked her to clarify and she just laughed at me." Jaebum shuts his eyes, massaging his forehead, “Oh, no, babes, are you getting a headache?”

“No, I...wow.” He sighs, “I’m just...what do you want to talk about, then?”

“I’m not quite sure I understand. Could you explain it to me?” He asks. Jaebum goes back to massaging his temples, maybe he really did have a migraine? So he reaches over to help him, but Jaebum stops him. He’s beginning to wonder if he’s opened a huge can of worms, here. In retrospect, maybe.

“I don’t...I just...I don’t know where to start. Tell your coworkers they need one of your gods or God or whatever, for starters.”

“One of _my_ gods?” He chuckles, “Bumie, you’re being silly, now. Just tell me.” He leans on his shoulder, smiling up at him. Jinyoung notices for the first time how embarrassed he looks, avoiding his gaze and covering his face. “Oh, darling-”

“It’s like...hah Okay, Imagine-" He proceeds to give a very detailed explanation, that Jinyoung appreciates, and finds his embarrassment unnecessary. It's just sex. He is a little curious though.

“You know a lot. Why do you know so much?”

“ _Ummmm_...” He breathes, finally looking up. It’s almost endearing how red his face is. “My dad’s like a lust demon or whatever, I think it’s in my nature. I can also talk about the influence of sex positivity on the female psyche at length, as well.”

Oh, impressive.

He brings this memory up, because, just that he’s naïve, doesn’t mean he’s dense. Right? And that Jaebum isn’t helping, right now.

“Do you have to go?” He really has to think more before he speaks. Or touches, because Jaebum shivers as he places a hand on his lower hip, pulling himself as close as possible. These kneejerk reactions aren’t good for anybody. Jaebum flinches immediately, glancing back to his phone.

His tone is frustrated, sighing heavily. “You’ve gotta stop.”

“The weather’s bad...” He mutters. Jaebum pulls a hand through his hair, quickly getting tangled. Probably his own fault, Jinyoung’s been running his hands through his hair too much lately.

“I know you’re worried about me, but Jinyoung, please.” He sighs, moving to get up, gently lifting up Jinyoung off of him the aforementioned staring off blankly, taking in his words. “Are you going to stay here?”

Oh yeah, that. “I have something to do, actually...”

He stands, pocketing his phone, ruffling his hair, trying to  fix the bed-headedness. Jinyoung thinks it’s cute. “Alright. Don’t do anything dangerous. Make yourself at home, Nyongie. Use anything you need.” Jinyoung follows him out the room, offering a scarf as he opens the front door.

“See you later, I guess.” He hesitates, leaning down a bit, closer to him but changes his mind, placing a quick friendly kiss on his cheek, pulling away quickly, heading out into the rain, without an umbrella.

“Bye! I-“ The door shuts. “...love you.”

He sighs. Jaebum left him in his house alone. It’s the same house as always, just lonelier. No Yugyeom. (His fault,) and no Jaebum right now (directly indirectly his fault.) He fishes his phone out of his pocket to tell Jackson when and where they’re meeting, heading back into Jaebum’s room.

It’s a pretty little room, with a lot of memories. Jaebum isn’t an interior decorator by any means, but the place has charm. It could be from the memories as well, though. Two bookshelves, one of those walk in closets with the paneling, a bed that takes up half the room and eggshell off-white walls highlighted in grey by the weather. The sound of rain was particularly louder in here, two windows facing the pretty lake, swirling around in the weather. He wanders over to the bed, flopping on top of it and burying his face into one of Jaebum’s pillows.

When he gets to the café, the weather’s only gotten worse. His umbrella was nearly lost to the wind as he heads up the street, but he’s not too wet entering the store.

Jackson’s always easy to spot. He has that sort of infuriating energy about him. He’s talking to some black-haired guy with a soft face, and one with too many piercings next to him. They look familiar. He seems jumpy, because his eyes are immediately on Jinyoung as the bell rings out.

 He does a completely unnecessary wave-over with a big smile that Jinyoung hates. He knows Jackson is nosey, and he has absolutely no intentions of telling him anything about his heritage casual question or not, so he’s got a turtleneck, on top of a long sleeved shirt, on top of a , you get it. He might look a little uncomfortable, (Jaebum’s things were always too big for him. Always. But they’re Jaebum’s things, so. His own clothes were available, but...)

Jinyoung heads over after ordering a drink, the bitterest, harshest thing on the menu and the other two still aren’t gone by then. Jackson sits down, “Jinyoung, this is Youngjae, Jimin. From the bar last night.”

He pulls on his most obvious, fakest smile he can muster, bowing his head quickly. “Pleasure.”

Youngjae frowns. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice, or care. “Nice to see you again!” He smiles, “You should totally call us up, Jackson. Okay? Bye! Enjoy your meal. Drink? Er—bye!” The two take their exit, and Jinyoung can finally smile, watching Jackson’s face drop.

“You’re really as sleazy in person.” He stirs his tea.

“Sleazy? Can’t you pick a better adjective, Seun-ah?”

The words fall off his tongue, “Evil?”

That hurts. He takes a sip from his beverage. “That’s too harsh. Me, of all people? So all of my charity work means nothing because...” He waves a hand, waiting for an explanation.

“Shit. I don’t know. You really weren’t like this before.” He says nonchalantly. Jinyoung wishes he’d run out of tea, soon. It really completes the whole, better than thou look.

“With all due respect, you barely know me.”

“You’re telling me, you’ve been a dick the entire time?”

The conversation breaks, each taking, yet another sip from their beverage. Jinyoung internalizes the tension, trying to enjoy the discomfort, but,

The thing that upsets him the most is that Jackson is glowing. It makes him angry, how easily he can smile, and smile at others  like he used to be able to, is that why Jaebum likes him so much? Because Jinyoung can almost see wh-

“Why am I here, Jinyoung? You gonna explain, or glare at your coffee?”

He’s not in the mood to play anymore. He’s just upset. Jealous...no. Absolutely not. “The mark on your chest is a binding spell.” He says simply, “Happens either with a practiced magic user, or accidentally with magical energy siphoned through a person. Latter is you, most likely. Somebody else is bound to you. You feel their strong emotions, and vise-versa.”

Jackson blinks, trying to make sense of and absorb the information. “...Are you a wizard?” He asks,

“Don’t be fucking stupid.”

“How do I get rid of it?” He asks,

“Ask somebody else.” He mutters. Jackson just sighs, placing his head in his palm. He has his sleeves rolled up to get a good view of his arms. Jinyoung watches his movements carefully.

“Would Jaebum know?” It’s an innocent question. Jinyoung doesn’t feel like entertaining it, but he’s realizing that being angry won’t really get him anywhere with this man.  

“He’s magic-illiterate.” He sighs, glancing down at his drink. “That’s all the information I have.”

Jackson shrugs, “I guess it isn’t all bad. Just a little strange. Alright. Second part of the deal.”

He’s upset. Jackson isn’t at all like he was yesterday, and now he’s at the disadvantage. Or he’s taking Jaebum’s words from earlier a lot worse than he thought. Love? Really? _Love?_  “Second part?”

“About Jaebum. I want to get him away from you, so, let’s get started. What are you possibly going to tell me that I don’t know?” The thing is, Jinyoung had originally called him up to apologize, because Jaebum seemed upset about it, and, it’s true, he was...harsh. But he doesn’t want to. Not anymore. Fuck being a good person, he doesn’t have to be, right?

So he just glares at him, but manages to fit a tight-lipped smile on. Jackson does the same, but much more confident, and relaxed, playing on his insecurity. He feels...

“Earth to Jinyoung. Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He’s not going to cry, even though he wants to. Since he was young, tears were the way he showed he was overwhelmed-and that  was a lot, being way too immature for the world. But that’s neither here, nor there, because he’s not going to cry. Jackson tilts his head, a wave of brown hair following him. He’s feeling...so inadequate. God. It probably shows.

He’s doubling down, though, adding that taunting edge he knows would get under anyone’s skin. “Seun-ah...I give you answers and you only ask stupid questions. Really?”

Jackson doesn’t back off either, “Mm. Yeah. Stupid questions like worrying for your well-being when you’ve absolutely lost it.”

With a bite, “ _How_ many times have you called me crazy in the last twenty minu-“

Jackson’s phone rings. He raises an eyebrow looking for permission. He kind of just sneers, and he picks up. “Jaebum?”

Ah...why would he call Jackson and not him.

“Don’t worry about it...it’s okay,” He mutters, glancing at Jinyoung. He frowns again. “Oh, shit, forreal? Yeah. I’ll go! Of _course_! Text me your location. Mmm? Yeah. Bye, love you.”

Jackson glances at him. Jinyoung has to take a deep, deep breath to calm himself. Relax, relax, relax.

“He said his car died halfway outta this place. I’m gonna give him a jump or whatever.” He sighs,  starting slowly like he might regret it. “Do you...want to come?”

Youngjae sips on his coffee, watching the two exit the café. He and Jimin were just watching, but they’re leaving in such a hurry, down the street, through the rain.

 They have one of those nice ass expensive cars, so the pounding rain doesn’t bother him much. A few moments later, Taehyung exits the café, crossing the street and getting into the car.

“I can’t believe you were right, Youngjae. On your first guess, too!”

He’s good like that, of course. “Where are they going? Should we follow? Are they suspicious?”

“No, we shouldn’t. You’re way too eager.” Jimin hums,

Taehyung nods in agreement. “We’ve got time. They were talking about binding spells, so we must have a powerful magic user.” He comments, “But that guy from last night too, Jaebum? I have no clue. Bad vibes, though.”

“Hoonestly, I’m surprised this isn’t a dead end. We might really have our work cut out for us!” Jimin exclaims, “We should go back to the hotel, Youngjae.” Okay, then. Just order him around or whatever.

He starts driving. “The short one, Jackson, seems pretty oblivious to everything, though.” And now for the trek up the hill in the rain. This is why he’s the driver, “The other one...Jinyoung, I think he said? He’s just strange.”

“Meh. At least we got Jackson’s number. We have a lead. Guys, if we pull this off,” Jimin starts,

“We’d _totally_ get promotions! No more boring field jobs for us!” Taehyung finishes, leaning forward between the break in seats to smile at Youngjae and Jimin. “We’ve got this, don’t even stress. Not even you, Youngjae-ah.”

“I don’t stress?” He’s cool. Real cool. Like a cucumber. Or some other euphemism that doesn’t involve a deadly allergic reaction. Taehyung scoffs and Jimin starts laughing,

“Yeah right? Youngjae, we trained you remember? Oh, you were so cute in training!” Jimin says, reaching over and slapping his shoulder,

“But we’ve _so_ got this. We should celebrate. At that pastry shop!” Taehyung adds, “What’s a better motivator than candy?”

“...Actually working?”

“All work, and no play, makes Youngjae a dull boy.” Jimin hums, “Relax, you’ll get your chance to shine. We’ve already got a solid lead into this investigation. Come on. Crack a _little_ smile?”

He doesn’t. Jimin groans. Taehyung just laughs. “We’re gonna crack your case, Youngjae. Just you wait. Now, to unwind!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy friday!

Four. Lisa, Jennie, Bambam, and the one he actually cared about, Jimin. Why...were they here?

And they’re just staring at him. To their credit, his side is just staring at them, too. And, also in their defense...he looks different. The hair, he’s definitely paler, even he had to take a second look in the mirror this morning. Paler, not normal pale. Translucent, like Sooyoung said was right. Just looking down at the underside of his hand, you could see the veins. Not even unnaturally, just in that, pale, sickish kind of way. But he’s not sick. It probably reflected on his face, too.

Hopefully it’s not too ghastly. Jungkook didn’t think so, he barely spared him a second glance this morning, and when he was watching him, it was that same semi-look of wonder.

Haha, oh god, did he really just think that? How self-absorbed is _he_? Or is it more along the lines of self-value?

Sooyoung raises her hand first in a quick greeting, after a good minute of just silence. “Hi? I’m Joy. Changkyunnie. Jungkookie.” She points to them. Changkyun hides his face in the book. He didn’t think he was shy, but, hey, maybe being ‘bullied out of high school’ does that to you.

That was enough. Jungkook resumes his carving after reaching up and patting Yugyeom’s thigh, (but didn’t take his legs off of him...) Sooyoung tries a smile. Changkyun is Changkyun.

Jennie manages a loose smile as well, to Sooyoung and wraps an arm around Bam, whom he’s going to ignore for now. Lisa has the same kind of reaction, just throwing her hands in her pockets and time continues ticking by.

Finally, “Yugyeom, holy _fuck_!” Jimin exclaims, awkwardly laughing. “What the fuck. Is this your emo phase, finally?” She hops over to him,

“Um? No. I don’t even know what happened, to be honest.”

“Accidentally bleaching your hair is not a thing. Like, I know you’re just a liiiiiiitle off, but-“ She picks up a strand of his hair, rubbing between two fingers to check the dryness. Too bad it’s like, actually natural, though.

“Jiminie, you came all this way to just insult me?”

“No, honestly, _honestly_ , on the fucking real I almost didn’t recognize you. You look like hell, bro!” She laughs, “God, this place is kinda nice though I don’t mind it.”

“Right?”

“I mean, it’s not my boarding school but, eh. Top ten. Are these your friends?”

“I’ve only been here a few days...” He snorts, “But. Yeah, totally.” He’s bitter, okay? Jimin can tell. They share one of their patented, Ugly Cousin Laughs™ together. Sooyoung and Changkyun chuckle, turning their attention to the two. Jungkook doesn’t look, but he does slow down his work.

“You’re alright, right?” She asks, lowering her voice, tapping his shoulder.

He nods, “I’m pretty good. Great? I miss Jaebum-hyung did you talk to him or anything?”

“Mm. He’s-" She pauses, changes the subject, “Oppa’s really thinking of you. Aren’t you speciaaal?”

Shit, maybe he is. “What about you! How’s...your comedy career?”

“Comedy career?” Changkyun snorts, “I love her, she’s my favourite.”

“Oh my god, I’m living for your hair.” Sooyoung gushes, gesturing “Jimin?”

“Park Jimin. Jamie, whatever. I like your look! Edgy in all the right ways-" Damn, she got distracted quick. Jimin leaves him, after patting and messing up his hair, wandering over to Sooyoung, and they start chatting for a moment, leading his gaze back to the three. Still standing at the entrance.

Fine he’ll.He'll just. He pushes on a tight lipped smile, tilting his head. His hair falls into his eyes, lucky him, that makes it easier. “Sooo...you guys just gonna...stand?” He gently prods Jungkook, “Jungkookie,” His head snaps up, he can’t help but to actually smile at the reaction. “Your legs?”

“Ah. Ah. Right, yeah, sorry.” He adds quietly, “Sorry. Sorry about that.” Weird. He’s never really seemed the type for compulsive apologies. Jungkook pulls his legs off of him, and he stands, stretching.

Bam smiles at him. It’s...awkward. He’s still much taller than all three of them, and back at school he had actually gotten into the habit of slouching, making himself smaller, trying to disappear even more, but, he didn’t really...have a reason to do that here? He does lower himself a bit, mirroring Lisa’s pocket, slouching position out of habit.

“I’m kind of surprised anybody other than my family woul-“ Ah, there it is. The hug. It...doesn’t feel right...

“I’m so happy to see you. I was really worried.”

Interesting. Was he.

“You, um, really don’t have to be...Bam.” He mutters. Bambam shakes his head, Yugyeom decides to pull out of the hug.

“No, I really...is there anywhere I can talk to you alone?” Argh.

See, Yugyeom’s really a people pleaser. And, it’s not like he’s gonna say go fuck yourself to his “best friend”, so he sucks it up, and nods. Bam smiles again. He doesn’t like it. He says something to Lisa and Jennie, but he’s tuned out at this point, glancing back for help. Jungkook has that little pointed grin of his, watching him as he leaves.

As they walk down the hallway, they run into Dahyun, who is balancing books on her head.

“Oh! Yugyeom, are you alright? I heard yesterday was...” She stops, as he makes a quick cutting gesture. “Oh, um. Well, who’s this?”

“This is Bambam My...” He was gonna add friend, but. But. He just plays it off with a cough.

“Hello! I uh...guess we’ll talk later! Feel bette- _shit_ , I mean. Nothing! Bye!” She runs off, a book falls off, she catches it, and runs faster, down the hall, into the common room.

Bam watches her leave, but doesn’t say anything until they’re up in his room. Yugyeom sits on the bed, and expects Bam to join him, but he just stands, looking around. Not like there's much to see.

“Well, what happened yesterday?”

“Nothing...?” Why would he tell _this_ guy of all people, haha?

“Does it have to do with why you look absolutely fucked?” He says, in that cute accent of his. He usually likes it. Just pissing him off a little right now, though.

“I don’t think I look ‘fucked’. I feel fine.” No, he absolutely does look fucked, god _damn_ , it’s nearly unhealthy, but he doesn’t feel any better or worse. Maybe happier.

“Gyeom? What?” He starts, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am, your brother fucking shipped you off to the middle of nowhere, because you got suspended. It’s complete bull—"

Well...he has a point, but it’s more than that. Yugyeom stares, taking in his appearance as he rants. Bam, had _always_ always been a little frail, weak, he’d say _soft_ , but the guy barely had any body fat. Hell of a mouth, though. Cursing, if it were a superpower, would be his.  Easy to pick on, and Yugyeom is “threatening” even though he’s the one with the soft heart. Together, they’re complimentary. Well, they _were_ , but Bam decided screw their friendship, and become a new person. So they weren’t quite as _complimentary._

He doesn’t hate it, but he hates how he tries to keep the same amount of importance in his life, as he just tossed Yugyeom aside, for richer, prettier friends. He has a good image. He really does. It would be unfortunate if not, because he’s obsessed with outer shells.

But he looks tired, right now. And he knows Bam is the first one to be like, _oh, just pop some concealer under that_ , lip gloss, and style his hair effortlessly, to look amazing. But the dark circles under his eyes are pronounced, and his lips are chapped, he bites at them every other second, there’s blood and as he pulls his hood downwards, hair flies every which way.

“...And it’s been, what, less than a week, and you look like _hell_. Gyeomie, can I just take you out of here? I can take you home, my parents shouldn’t mind, and, even if they do, to hell with them I-"

 “—What are you saying? Why are you saying this like we’re still friends?”

Oh, oops. He’s never seen anyone’s face fall that fast...but he’s just being honest with his feelings. Bambam hasn’t felt like a friend for a while. He’s just felt...alone.

“Yugyeom...I...” He pauses, looking down confused. “I...I don’t...There’s something wrong with me.”

Sudden guilt? “That’s going a little far...um...” He can try to fix it? “Bam, I’m sorry I just...I didn’t mean to be so harsh but...We honestly haven’t had a real conversation like this for _months_ , maybe even a year, Bam-"

He looks even more conflicted. Slightly sad, but confused at the same time. “No...I...Yugyeom, I can’t feel anything. I’m upset. I am _really fucking upset_ right now but I don’t _feel_ it-Yugyeom-"

That’s a new excuse. Huh.

 

//

 

Jackson’s suddenly overwhelmed with a perplexing mix of sadness and guilt. He shuts his eyes, lying against the steering wheel. “Fuck.”

Jinyoung tries not to look interested, but he leans forward. “Why is that?”

“Fucking _hell_ this hurts.”

“Excuse me?” Jinyoung reaches out a hand, but decides against it. “Are you...” He sighs, sucking up his pride. Can’t leave his driver to perish.“...Are you okay?”

“I-Is this that binding spell you were talking about, Jinyoung?” He mutters, shutting his eyes tighter, trying to block out _whatever_ it was, but it doesn’t let up in the slightest. “I don’t like this...”

“Um...I don’t...I mean, how are you feeling?” He asks softly. It’s comforting in the strangest way. Is that what Jaebum saw in him?

“Like the worst...”

“I’m sorry. Magic can be cruel.” This is weird. He’s not being a dick, right now.

He looks up at him, and. Okay. He gets it. He gets why. Jinyoung is...angelic in appearance alone, but the way he softens his voice is saintly on it’s ow-what is he saying. He’s not going to get sentimental over Park Jinyoung, whomst has only really been a dick to him recently, except for the past five minutes. Is that _really_ all it takes? What a charmer.

“Take a deep breath...you shouldn’t panic.” He says, “Jaebum’s probably frustrated...I hope he’s alright.” He sits back, playing with his hands, “If you can’t drive, I can, if you’d let me I just don’t want him to get hurt. The mountains are dangerous alone...”

He winces, ignoring his one-track-mindedness, “What do you mean, dangerous?”

He scoffs, “It’s dangerous. That should be enough information for you. Now, are you driving, or not?” Oh. He’s back. Definitely spoke too soon, there.  

He’ll just take his warning. “Alright. Whatever. Drive...” Maybe he can walk off this feeling. Well. Sit off?

Jinyoung is good at everything, driving included, so Jackson doesn’t really mind, chances of him crashing his car are low. He inputs whatever address Jaebum sent him, and sits back, trying to get the feelings to go away. The rain pelting against the windows help. Jinyoung not turning on the radio, but humming anyways, doesn’t.

So he decides to just start talking. “So, like, did you always want to be a teacher?” They weren’t that close. They went to church together. Then Jinyoung went AWOL, so, never had the chance to get closer. He’s not sure why excruciating emotional pain that’s not his makes him feel like reaching out, but Jinyoung’s been striking him for the past hour, two hours. Maybe give him the benefit of the doubt, Jaebum _does_ like him for some reason, maybe he can find it.

“At the time...” He starts, “Don’t talk to me. I’m driving.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve got an hour together. Can you drop the, ‘I hate everything’ act until we’re back in our respective places?” He sighs, “Besides, I...kinda need a distraction.”

Finally, “Whatever,”

“Twenty questions. You ask me, too.” Jinyoung groans, he takes it as a yes. “Hm. Favourite subject in school?”

“Humanities. Sociology.” He answers, and takes a breath. “Hypothetically speaking, if you had to, how would you like to spend the rest of your life? With a lover, working...or something along those lines?” Oh. Only Jinyoung.

“So. Social life or success, basically?” Jinyoung doesn’t answer, so he assumes he’s right. “With another person, of course. What’s the point of success if you have no one to share it with? What’s the point of _anything_...right?”

“Mmmm...” Jinyoung hums. Jackson finally decides to uh, open his eyes. Everything’s still aching. “We actually agree on something.” Jinyoung muses,

“Scary!” He offers an airy chuckle. Jinyoung’s frown lightens up a bit. Jackson _would_ smile if he wasn’t aching, right now. “Who was your first kiss?”

“I’m not telling you that.” Right. Dumb question. “Would you revive somebody from death if given the chance?” What...

“Well, that depends. Are they, like, a zombie? Or normal? I mean...I guess that’s not the question. I don’t think so. It seems weird, kinda selfish.”

“I would,” That’s all she wrote. Oh, Jinyoung...he’s just so...

Whatever. Fun game. He’ll try something sillier, because Jinyoung wants to be so...serious.“Okay, you and me. I take you on a date. What would I have to do to get the call for a second one?”

“Not be you.” Ouch. “Jaebum and I took a stroll through the town on our first date. So. That. And also be Jaebum and not you.” Is he trying to convince himself of something? “Um...” He pauses to think. And also the rain was getting heavier, so he’s more focused on um. Keeping them alive, driving. “Maybe...uh. If you were in a tightly knit community, and got kicked out, fairly, for misconduct or breaking rules or...” He swallows, “Would you try to return to the community, or go on your own way?”

“Well, if it was fairly, I’d probably just accept my fate, y’know? Obviously I wanted to do it.” Hmmm...he needs a good one. “Kinkiest shit you ever did?”

“No...”

“Oh, come on. Do you _have_ a sex life? What was it that-” He leans forward. Jinyoung looks extremely frustrated, leaning back and face palming.

“I thought you said you were in pain...”

“I’m trying not to make this car ride any more hellish. You’re so...” What are those lines on his arm? Did this guy really get a tattoo? But, something’s off about the ink.

“So _what_?”

He’ll finish his thought. “...Obsessive. What’s that on your arm?” He reaches out, Jinyoung yanks his arm away, pulling the sleeve down. “Uh. Okay.”

“It’s nothing. Just...” He pulls away from the wheel, cradling his arm. Traffic was slow right now, so, it was fine. “Leave me alone. Let me drive.”

Okay, so another on the list of things to ask Jaebum later. 1) What’s wrong with Jinyoung? Just, like, in general. 2) Why did you decide to fall in love with that one? 3) So, like do you guys have matching tramp stamps or something...? And that should suffice.

Their car ride continues mostly in silence, except for the occasional direction. It’s pretty straightforward, into the hills. Only once they’re surrounded by trees, pounding rain, scarcely helpful streetlights, and a figure standing underneath one of those lights, do they stop the car.

Jinyoung barely puts it in park, climbing out of the car in seconds. Jackson reaches over and adjusts the gears himself, because he’s not losing this damn car, and pulls an umbrella from the back seat before joining them.

Of course, Jinyoung’s clinging to him like a damn koala, telling him something. Jackson wonders why the hell he decided to stand in the rain?

“-Why are you out in the rain, you could get sick? I could take care of you, of course, but it’s not good for your health, are you cold? We should get you home-" Yeah, that’s enough of that.

“Hyung, why do you constantly make bad decisions?” Jackson asks, Jaebum shrugs.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I was wrong about needing a jump, at least that’s what the internet told me, so, I thought I’d just tow it. I called the company like an hour ago, and,” He sighs. Jinyoung squeezes him. “How hard can it be, fixing a turbocharger or whatever?”

“You’re overconfident...” Jinyoung mutters, “Are you delirious?” Another squeeze.

“No? Maybe?” Being pelted with freezing rain isn’t the _best_ way to live. “What time is it?”

Jackson glances to his watch, “A little after four.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” He groans,

Jinyoung turns to Jackson, “You’re driving.”

“Well, what if _I_ wanted to cuddle Jaebum on the way home?” It’s half-joking but Jackson can feel his glare right through the rain. “I’m...kidding?”

Jaebum runs a hand through Jinyoung’s hair, “I’m probably going to pass out so, um, no cuddling for me.” A deeper sigh, he mutters under his breath, “I have one job and I can’t even do that...”

They play the waiting game until one unlikely hero (the tow truck) appears, Jaebum passing out from exhaustion, but not before fishing the bills out of his pockets to pay for the service, and Jackson and Jinyoung were trying not to um, hate each other.

Soon enough, they find themselves in one of those, throw-a-way highway diners through the rain. Jackson had never particularly seen it before, especially when he leaves town so much, but it looked lived in, and not a kidnapping scam. And he like, really wanted a cheeseburger and so he wins on that.

And it’s not closed! Just empty with blinking neon lights and one bored ass looking old lady who groans softly as they enter the establishment. They could sit at the bar, but they grab a booth instead, somehow Jaebum ending up on the other side as he and Jinyoung squeeze in next to each other, for a tighter than expected fit, their thighs touching, shoulders bumping. Jinyoung is tiny, though, so these booths? Not up to fucking code.

The same older lady passes around menus without a word. Jackson doesn’t like it-he prefers a little conversation, but he knows Jaebum isn’t complaining. Speaking of.

He wipes at his face, and sniffles, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

“What was that, hyung?” He asks. Jaebum shakes his head, and he feels that twinge of annoyance.

Jinyoung glances at Jackson, in that disapproving sort of way. Jackson’s wondering what kind of jurisdiction _he_ has as the...ex, but. He digresses.

“Are you alright, love?” Jinyoung tries, in that _love_ ly voice of his, Jaebum just sighs.

“I’m alright. I’m just...compounding my bills for the next month.” He says, then goes quieter, “...And now my fucking car...”

Maybe it’s rude. Too bad he’s a good listener, lock up your secrets. “Jaebum, why didn’t you tell me? I can pay for your car repairs, man.”

“It’s not your problem. I’ll just pick up extra shifts or another part time. It’s no big deal, you two. Don’t worry about it.” He adds, specifically pointing to Jackson. “Seriously. Don’t.”

“Let me help you, hyuuuung,” He reaches over, grabbing one of his hands, lacing their fingers, “Please?”

Jinyoung rests his head in his palm. “You have so much power, and yet, you live so humbly. I admire you.” Huh. That’s tame. Weird, but tame.

“What do you mean by that?” Jackson asks. Jaebum seems disinterested, probably going back to counting.

“Self-explanatory,” And he continues, because he must be a psychic or something, “Hyung, I’m sure Yugyeom won’t be upset with you. He didn’t even know you were coming.”

Oh duh, right, that makes more sense. Why didn’t he catch that? Jaebum doesn’t say anything, but gives a little nod.

He just _has_ to know. “Are you like a psychic...or a mind reader or something? Because you’re using your powers for evil.”

“I am not, no.” He tilts his head in the direction of the woman  working (sleeping) the counter, lowering his voice. “But. She’s going to die, soon.”

“I mean, that’s a little rude, although high cholesterol is a silent killer.” He’s a little creeped out by the dead, reservation in his voice, but, it’s definitely in Jinyoung’s taste.

“I’m serious. You want to bet?”

“Well, no, not on somebody’s life. How do I know you wouldn’t like, stab her after some ridiculous stakes?”

“I _am not_ a murderer. At least, not to the first degree. Why don’t we just sit back and watch?”

“...Because, okay, even if you’re right, why don’t you try helping?” Jackson’s wondering why Jaebum’s just watching, and won’t speak up,

“It never works.” Is all he has to say. Huh. Okay. “Just watch.”

His attitude is i _nfuriating_. He can’t put it in words, but he just...hates it. Jaebum glances to the counter for a moment, focusing.

“Yeah. I feel it too.” The lights flicker. The neon glow is ominous, all of a sudden.

“ _What_ the hell are you going on about?” Maybe they’re pranking him?

Jinyoung seems interested though, leaning forward, “You _feel_ it? How?”

“No, I don’t know. I guess, I believe you. Maybe we should get out of here. Go home?”

Yeah. Maybe the best course of action. Jackson didn’t like it here. It’s so... _dark_. Just looking outside the window, they’re surrounded by fir trees sucking out whatever light was left over through the storm, and the low fog gathering due to the temperature. Maybe it was Jinyoung’s very...Moerae proclamation, or how this diner seemed isolated in it’s own separate plane of existence. He hasn’t seen a car rush by since they got here, and the streetlights reflections off the streets were only getting stranger. Maybe because it’s just the three of them, plus this woman apparently slated for death, or-

“Coffee is fine for me, as well. Jackson?” Jinyoung nudges his shoulder, and man, he must have been in his own head.

He can’t look her in the eyes, and he’s not that hungry anymore, either. “Milk tea. If you have it. Thanks...”

She sighs softly, and leaves. Electricity is in the air, and it’s making him nervous.

 

//

 

Is it a panic attack if you _can’t_   ‘feel’ anything? If the physical symptoms are there, he guesses.

Yugyeom isn’t...good...with handling...whatever this was in the first place.

“I feel like I’m losing it..” Yugyeom watches him pace, cringes at how harshly he tugs his hair.

“Ah huh..?” He drones, Bam looks at him.

“I’m being serious, Gyeom...”

“What am I supposed to do?” It’s not supposed to sound that confrontational, really. He’s tried his hardest to keep his voice neutral, but maybe that lack of emotion makes it worse.

“ _Help me_?”

“Come sit next to me.”  He pats the bed. Bam does as he suggested, and there’s that awkward silence again, as he refocuses his breathing.

Just...

Quiet...

“I’m sorry.” He says, finally, right when Yugyeom was going to attempt and see if he could just, choke himself with magic and get out of the situation. “I’m, like, the shittest-“

The door opens. He’s saved. He’d never thought he’d be so happy to see Jungkook and...Jennie, he guesses, as well.

“And this is Yugyeom’s room. There’s Yugyeom, and whoever-the-fuck. That’ll conclude our tour.”

Jennie looks to them, well, Bambam, she’s avoiding him, sheepishly. “I really only wanted to know where the bathroom was.”

“Is _that_ was you said? Shit. Sorry.” He’s not really sorry. “We’re here now. Yugyeom!”

“Hi,” He gives a shy wave. He notices out of the corner of his eye Bam’s just staring at him. “Hi,” And a quick wave to Jennie as well,

“Oh! Yeah, hi. I said that earlier, right?”

“No...”

“Oh.” It’s funny. Yugyeom looks to Jungkook, for that shared, ‘this is ridiculous’ eyebrow raise. Jennie’s watching Bambam, even though she’s talking to him, because...he’s just too intimidating or something. Who knows. And Bambam’s burning holes into the side of his head out of his peripherals. “Yugyeom, so do you like it here?”

“It’s fine. I _am_ here for a reason, so.”

“What reason is that?” She presses. Yugyeom shrugs, “...Huh?”

“It’s because of magic.” Jungkook offers suddenly. Jennie snickers, Bam just frowns further, finally looking away, and to Jungkook, who just gives his sharp, toothy grin. “Just keep it a secret, or-“ He makes a sharp biting noise, literally showing off his teeth, to no apparent reaction.

“You’re funny.” She says, with no humor at all in her voice. “Such a unique character.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Jennie shakes her head, but Jungkook still scowls.

“How’d you get this far out?” Yugyeom asks, as soon as the question comes to mind, turning to Bambam.

His...friend, nods, knocked out of whatever trance he was in. “We drove. Jennie, did, actually. It was a group effort.”

“...And, why?”

“I wanted to see you...make sure you were okay.”    

Oh. Oh. Oh, god. He knows his face is immediately red, and that makes him even more embarrassed. He’s so _easy_! He should be ashamed of himself! It’s just that, he never says sweet things like that. To _Yugyeom_ , nonetheless? Bambam is one step off from being a dead inside pretty doll at all points.

Bam nods at this, a smile finally curling onto his face. Yugyeom thinks dying is the best course of action right now, for being so transparent. This has to be a genetic thing, because now that he thinks about it, Jaebum had the same damn problem, and he laughed at him for it. This is fucked. Absolutely fucked, and unfair.

“Yugyeom,” He laughs, and goddamnit, it’s so cute why does it just take one swing to break down all of his walls and leave him vulnerable? “Oh my god, that is so adorable.”

Last ditch effort, he throws his head into his hands, maybe he can disappear. Find a new plane to reside on. “Allergies...” Poor attempt, but you can’t say he didn’t try.  

Jungkook laughs immediately, “The fuck?” There’s a hand on his shoulder, all of a sudden. How did he move so fast? “Why are you making fun of him?”

“Excuse me?”

“I literally just said it.” He groans.

Bam does that little scoffing thing of his, reserved for when he’s pissed, and can’t think of the words to describe his anger. It’s a rare sound.

Jungkook has a sharp tongue, though. “You’re so transparent...Yugyeom you’re buying this? I guess he is charming...” He draws his hand away, lingering for a second or two too long. “As I see it, and you can trust me, Yugyeom _ie_ -“

“He _doesn’t_ like that nickname. Right?”

It was one someone he used to know preferred and that was a sore spot, but, “I-I mean...I don’t really mind...it.” He manages, voice probably a little too soft.

Jungkook snickers, “This is like, sad. Anyways, before I was so _rudely_ -“ A literal hiss from Bambam. Ummmm-“-interrupted. Thank you. Yugyeom he’s totally just _using_ you. See how his attitude didn’t change until he had some control over you? _Right_?”

He _does_ have a point-

“That’s not even close to true! You’re honestly crazy.” His voice isn’t carrying enough emotion to be convincing. It’s there, but just a little hollow, and it makes Yugyeom upset, so he draws his head up, locking eyes with Jennie who seems...interested, but confused. She looks away immediately.

Jungkook looks at him, and his expression is between some sort of smugness, and concern. Like his suspicions are just being confirmed, tenfold. “What a dick.”

He can’t help but to agree. “Bam-"

“You don’t seriously believe him, do you? You _barely_ know this guy you’ve only been here a fucking week.” There’s still something...missing.

“I wasn’t going to say that.” He offers quietly. Jungkook cracks his neck, ready to go up for round two.

“You’re really running out of defenses, aren’t you? I really don’t need your life story to point out that um, I don’t know, you’re like, a shit friend?”

“Oh? Because you know everything, don’t you?” He stands, crossing his arms, face to face, and it’s a little unfortunate because he’s so short and Jungkook has a much more imposing figure. They’re either gonna fight, or start making out. Either or. He lowers his voice just a bit. “I can read your game. You’re just jealous, huh?”

“ _Jealous_?” It’s almost a growl. He must have hit a sore spot. Jealous. He smiles, but it’s to be threatening, once again showing off teeth. “You’re ridiculous.” Same tone of voice. It’s...kinda scary.

“No, I think I’m right. You’re as ‘transparent’ as I am. Our bond-“ He throws a hand towards Yugyeom. “Something you can’t have. _Ever_.”

As fractured as it is? Maybe so. Jungkook echoes this sentiment. “I don’t think he likes you, man.”

He laughs. It’s shrill, kinda unhinged. “Yugyeom,” He starts, looking to him. “You _do_ know I’ve literally been in love with you since grade school, right?”

“What?” It’s communal disbelief. Jennie throws up her hands,

“What the _fuck_ , Bam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been having a hard time writing recently, hopefully that improves soon


	7. Chapter 7

"Well," Jinyoung stares at the body from his perch on the counter. “I suppose we call the police.”

“I think we should just go. Are there cameras?” Jaebum asks, looking around. “Wasn’t our fault.”

“Don’t be stupid. If you don’t want to be on the record, just go sit in the car or something. I’ll call the police.” Jinyoung says, pulling out his phone. “What are you standing there for?”

“Something’s off. Really, I’m not being paranoid.” He tries, and turns to Jackson, but he’s just, staring down the body. “Jackson?”

He massages his forehead. “I can’t believe you were right. And we just let her _die_?”

“Don’t get sentimental.” Jinyoung groans, turning away from the body, resting the phone in his lap. “It happens to all of us. Well-" He shrugs in the direction of Jaebum. “Most of us.”

“She probably had a family...”

“Oh, boo fucking hoo. Are you going to cry?” Jinyoung asks. Jackson just glares at him. Jaebum starts to go in to mediate, but there’s the sound of bones cracking behind them. And the cue to fucking go, because he actually does have a lot of things to live for, and dying by odd supernatural circumstances is not preferable.

Jaebum slams the diner door behind them, and they start the sprint across the parking lot into Jackson’s car.

“What the fuck was that?”

“A ghost? Demon? _Skeletons_? I don’t fucking know- _drive!_ Why aren’t you driving?” Jinyoung pushes his shoulder as Jackson’s hands fumble to pick out the keys and-

“Guys?” Jaebum starts, “Guys, guys guys?” Jackson offers a squeak to let him know he’s listening, “ _I_ think that’s a-”

“A _who_?” He finally gets the key in, and they’re off, pulling a u-turn down the street disastrously through the rain, the car leaning a _bit_ too far. And he gets a glimpse of the building. Looking exactly the same. Jaebum’s horrified, though.

“I don’t see anything, my love.” Jinyoung offers,

“Are you _serious_? Fuck...”

And about an hour later through the rain they find their way to Jackson’s apartment, still soaking wet.

“I’ll get us blankets. And I should have some clothes.” He glances to Jinyoung. “Might be too big for you, though.”

“Does that matter?”

Jackson shrugs, kicking off his shoes and moving off to his bedroom. Jinyoung likes the apartment. He’s been here before, but right now it has an remarkable aura of coziness unlike he’s ever experienced. What doesn’t help is turning back to ask Jaebum a question and he’s shirtless, balling up his wet clothes.

He’s...like...Adonis.

But his beauty is just straight chthonic and even now it makes him feel guilty. And the purple-blue that stains his skin is just as obvious in the dim lighting. He notices the staring-obviously, he’s not trying to hide anything, the unexpected bit is that he smiles.

Ah, fuck. He’s changing the topic he can’t deal with this. “Hyung.”

“Yeah?” He starts, probably a few seconds away from “Aren’t you going to-" Jackson returns, a with a bundle of really wooly, comfortable looking blankets, and clothes on top, which he dumps onto a nearby couch.

His apartment is...really really nice. Jinyoung lived on a teacher’s salary, and even through like, twelve interior designers (also known as the Internet), it still...lacked something, but Jackson’s apartment? It’s the perfect blend between style and homeliness, and so, he’s envious.

Jackson stares, “Hyung, were you hit repeatedly with a baseball bat or something?”

“That’s a hard, um, no.” He holds his hand out and Jackson tosses him a shirt, the same to Jinyoung. It’s a t-shirt, but made out of heavier warmer material. But...

“Where’s your bathroom, again?”

“Are you shy?” It’s probably a joke, “It’s down the hall. Just try until you find it I don’t really remember.”

A deep sigh, “Thanks...”  Once the door closes,

“So like, do you have horns?”

“As well as I’m aware, no.”

Jinyoung spends probably way too long inspecting himself in the mirror. He needs to shave, again. Even in the inadequate, but definitely moody lighting of the (way too nice) bathroom, he can focus on the dark red circles under his eyes. He looks like a man possessed, staring at a ghost of himself. And the walls are paper thin, so.

“Jinyoung said it was a spell or something? I didn’t understand, but I definitely feel it. It’s fuckin’ _weird_.”

“I hope it’s not dangerous...”

Speaking of dangerous, oh fuck. He kicks his sweater to the ground and, he’s been ignoring the problem-the pain, _but_. He can’t really inspect his back, but his arms? He’s gotten used to looking at the lines invading his skin, accepting whatever poison was being pumped into his veins, but...

He needs another set of eyes on this. As he goes to open the door, he’s sure to pocket the feather that had fallen when he first removed his sweater, and peeks his head out.

“Jaebum, could you look at-oh.” At some point Jackson moved to the hallway, and he was staring at him, turning as the door opened. Just his luck.

“He got a call from his boss or something and went to take it. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nevermin-"

“-The faucet’s kinda leaky you kinda have to force yourself onto it, I’ll-“ He holds the door open, Jinyoung takes a couple of steps back clutching the shirt to his chest. “Oh. It’s not on.”

“Yeah, dipshit? Do you ever listen?”

He doesn’t seem to care for the insult, leaning back against the sink. “As hard as you try, you’re really not threatening. I’ve never heard anybody say ‘dipshit’ so sweetly.”

...Yeah. Okay. Rude, but a taste of his own medicine. This obviously happened for a reason. And the pain was getting a little overwhelming. He’ll ask. He’ll just ask.

“Do you have any painkillers?”

“I have like, Advil. What fo...” He turns around. “Oh shit.”

“Am I bleeding? It feels like I’m bleeding. Or tearing apart, but I hope, bleeding. Is there blood?”

“Well, it’s definitely fucked.”

Jackson spends about two minutes too long inspecting his scars, because he would have preferred if not at all. It was a different kind of vulnerability, that he was absolutely _sick_ of.

“Did you have wings?” He asks, reaches a hand out, and then decides against it.

“No, I did no-"

“Cause it kinda looks like you had wings. Are you sure? Or did someone just, slice down your back in two perfectly symmetrical lines? Are there doctors for this? Because you need one.”

He _never_ stops talking. Why did Jaebum like him? He’s a quiet guy, he thought that was one of the reasons they clicked, but this guy...is the opposite.

He has to think about it.

One of those hot, sticky summer days and Jinyoung finds himself in a diner (one of two) in an effort to socialize. He’s particularly busy during the early summer, just because he’s meticulous in lesson plans for his older students, and fun, educational ones for the younger. It’s all so he can cruise through the year, grade papers, and then have enough free time for any other charity activities.

He works a lot. So does Jaebum though. He’s...just...perfect!

He knows he gushes about Jaebum like, every ten minutes but it’s not his fault his devilishly handsome man is just so...

Jaebum pulls him closer in one motion, the hand around his waist squeezing a bit. Uphill. Jaebum loves his motorcycle, and Jinyoung thinks it’s fun (he kind of wants to vomit after each ride, though,)but it was such a nice day they just decided to walk. Which he’s starting to regret due to the heat, and Jaebum’s insistence to be close, and also Jaebum’s infernal body temperature, but they’re almost there.

He doesn’t even look at him, another squeeze to catch his attention. “Don’t be so nervous, everybody loves you, Jinyoung-ah.”

He hates how he can just read his mind, when it should be the opposite. He offers a nervous chuckle in response, eyes turning to the road. Cars pass by hypnotic and mind-numbing to the bright sun and heat, but his mind drifts anyways.

He can’t help but feel a little guilty sometimes, monopolizing his time. Yugyeom’s a lonely kid, and his brother already works so much. But Jaebum insists most of the time. And he tries to spend a lot of time with him as well, so that should make up for it, he hopes. He’ll always strive to be better, though.

His mind is wandering. Maybe because he’s nervous. But the bell rings out and,

“I mean, if _I_ got a supposedly life changing boyfriend, I’d introduce him to _my_ best friends sooner. Right?” That’s somebody important. Only because of the way Jaebum rolls his eyes.

“Miracle boyfriend. I should patent that.”

“You’re _already rich_! Why do you need _more_ money?”

“I don’t-“ The booth comes into view, leading to two men. One with a healthy build, deep brown hair that framed his face and a big, wide smile, and the other a little mousy with longer, more obviously dyed hair, red, clearly more reserved—Mark. They’ve met. The brunette one notices them after a second, eyes glued on Jinyoung.

And he’s feeling more nervous, pulling on Jaebum’s jacket. (It’s distressed denim, and it fits him quite nicely. He doesn’t understand _why_ in this weather, because he could barely stand the polo shirt he’s wearing now, but he likes it on Jaebum.)

The brown haired one turns, “JB!!” He exclaims, and his eyes glide back over to Jinyoung, smile wavering. “And this must be your new-“

“He’s much more handsome in daylight.” Mark interrupts. Jaebum just kind of laughs as they separate, to opposite sides. Jinyoung finds himself next to the brunette, who’s already taking up too much space, and he’s feeling claustrophobic.

Jaebum gives him the nicest smile, though, reaching across, running his thumb across his hand for quick comfort. “Jinyoung, this is Jackson, we’ve been friends since...forever.” He gestures in the direction of the brunette, “And Mark-hyung, of course.” The redhead, he waves. Jinyoung smiles back. “Vice-versa.”

The brunette starts, reaching for a hand. “It is _so_ nice to meet you! _Finally_!” He starts, “What’s your name?” Okay, then. 

“Park Jinyoung...?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher. At the high school, and the elementary.”

“An intellectual? You know he’s as dumb as a sack of rocks, right? How long have you been dating?”

He glances to Jaebum, for comfort, and for confirmation. Jackson certainly comes on strong. Reminds him of a word he does not use lightly, um, douche. “Three, four months, almost, babe?”

“ _Petname_ status? Where are you fro-“

“Seunie, if you were just going to interview him, we could have brought his résumé. Right, angel?” It’s a joke.  He giggles. Jackson gags.

“He must really like you for living with shitty jokes like that.” He rolls his eyes, leaning against the window of the booth, gaze flickering from Jinyoung, and then back to Jaebum, eyes lingering definitely too long for his tastes. (He’s not usually jealous. This is new.)

Mark smiles at him, “How are things?”

He, once again, looks to Jaebum to see if he’d be interested in answering, but he’s more interested with his nails, and so. “I mean, I’m happy. And this town is so nice—! It’s such a nice change from the city.”

“Oh? You’re a city slicker, huh?” Jackson begins, but-

“What do you do, Jackson?” He’s curious, and feeling a little less charitable. It’s a horrible feeling and it brings up a dull, nervous aching in his chest. The interruption could be considered rude, but he’s mastered the art of...sweetness, so it sounds natural. Jackson seemed like the type of guy to jump topics fast anyways.

He sighs dramatically, leaning against the window. “What don’t I do? After spending years wrangling Jaebum, I settled for the slightly less demanding career of life coaching. I self published went viral...I finished up a media tour, which is why I’m back home.” He looks at him, “It’s why I couldn’t meet you sooner. I’m really sorry about that.”

Oddly, strikingly sincere.

Like right now.

“I am so sorry, Jinyoung.” He mutters, pulling away after inspecting, something he wasn’t expecting. Sympathy...blinding sincerity...maybe that’s why.. “It must hurt so bad...I’ll get those painkillers for you.” He moves to exit, Jinyoung grabs his arm.

He’s a little surprised at himself, really.

He wants to say _something_ , but he doesn’t know what. So he’s staring at him like an idiot, wide-eyed, gaping. It’s a minute of this until Jackson gently removes his hand, patting, and Jinyoung follows him out like a lost puppy, stumbling, pulling the shirt over his head, a couple more feathers falling as the door shuts.  

He feels sort of incomplete, most times. Just because he can’t grasp his way around any relationship effectively, (Except for Jaebum. That’s why he loved him so much. The first and only to understand him in such a way.) He’d see all of those nice, perfect from the outside relationships, friendships and want one. He didn’t really get that wasn’t how it worked until too late.

It’s like this-Jinyoung got a lot of crushes in general and on the perfect people for him. The cheerleader, the prep...he could go on. And he had no idea how to take any of them further until he met Jaebum, because he was so _different_ , and, as he learned, absolutely forbidden. And he feels like, maybe, Jackson could have a shot at that...

But as he exits the bathroom, there’s his angel, closing the apartment door and pocketing his phone. So he buries that train of thought as well as he can, as Jaebum lifts his gaze, eyes immediately locked on his arms, the lines, expression softening. He can’t tell if it’s pity, or...

“Hyung,” He tries once he’s in his personal space. Jaebum’s gaze flickers to his eyes, and then back to his hands. He doesn’t know what to say so he goes for the obvious. “What was your call about?”

“Oh. My boss just threatening to fire me as always.” He reaches out, grabbing his hand, which feels white hot at the touch. Bad sign. “Are you alright, angel?” Jaebum’s thing wasn’t...words, he was rather bad with them, actually. He was always just better at physical affection, and it’s still true, at how delicately his fingers wrapped around his palm, squeezing gently.

He always feels so happy, when he worries. Even if it’s not completely genuine. “I’m-"

“I found some extra strength Advil, Jinyoung! This shit knocks you right the fuck out though.” Jackson reappears, pill bottle in one hand, a water bottle in another. Jaebum drops his hand and he wants to groan.

Jackson hands the bottle to him, watching his hands. He’s really ready to dump the entire bottle in his mouth, maybe choke and die, but, alas.

It’s a little difficult to force the pills down his throat because he has a gag reflex like a motherfucker, but he feels...absolutely the same amount of pain about an hour later, and more drowsy, but not sleepy. He’s starting to think his insomnia isn’t natural.

Drowsy or out of it, he’s been staring at this wall for the past thirty minutes while Jaebum and Jackson talk. Half listening, but nothing in particular catches his attention. He probably looks asleep, maybe that’s why the conversation drifts.

“—Hyung. I just feel like I’m more useful here.”

Jaebum plays with his hands. “I...don’t know what to say. I’d hate to see you giving up opportunities, Seun.” He looks up, glancing to Jinyoung. “I think...I mean, I don’t know. What do I know.”

Jackson frowns, “I asked you for a reason, hyung.”

“In my opinion, I think you should go.” Jackson opens his mouth to reply, but, “—Because you can be so successful. Why rot away in this town?”

“I don’t wanna leave you guys...”

“It’s fine, we have the internet.” Jaebum tries, it’s not very convincing.

Jackson clarifies, tilting his head in Jinyoung’s direction. “I don’t want to leave _you_ -“ With him. He gets it. How fucking rude.

“I wouldn’t let people hold you back.” Jinyoung interrupts, trying his best to inject himself into the conversation seamlessly, like he wasn’t just knocked out of twelve layers of dissociation.

Jackson looks defeated. “I...yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll call my agent...” He sighs deeply, eyes to the ground. “...um...should we, are you guys hungry? what should we eat?”

“Whatever you’d like. Jinyoung?” Jaebum reaches over, tapping his shoulder, further tethering him to reality.

He’s sure if he tried to eat anything he’d vomit, so... “Anything,”

 

//

 

Jimin frowns at his phone, and then to Youngjae and Taehyung, who were Flirting but Not Flirting ™

“Got a call about some diner?” His voice is a little low, yes, but he also knows they heard him. Tae tilts his head to him, after Jimin clears his throat.

“It’s about some disturbance up north. They want us to check it out since we’re in the area.”

“ _Now_? The weather’s hell, and it’s evening.” Tae groans.

Youngjae sighs, twirling his keys. “I hope it’s werewolves.”

It takes about an hour and a half to get to the coordinates, and to Jimin’s disappointment, it’s a dreary old diner with a single car parked in the lot. Taehyung has a completely different reaction, though, pressing against the window.

“Holy shit.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a _rift_.” His voice is amazed. Jimin is too, gasping with him.

“No fucking way...”

They park. The rain’s lightened up, to the rising moon, but there’s still a low cloud of fog around the area, the diner sign flickering as they exit the vehicle.

“Our luck this week is just...” Tae begins, “Well. You guys, head in there.”

“Why not you?” Youngjae asks, turning as Jimin starts walking to the building, pulling out his pager.

He stumbles on his answer, “U-um, somebody needs to tell HQ if you get your asses killed.”

“Can we like, draw straws next time?” Youngjae asks. Tae shrugs, as the younger turns to catch up with Jimin, who was nearly at the entrance, the sound of Taehyung slamming the door behind them. 

Jimin didn’t have... _it_. Whatever _it_ was, it just made seeing supernatural things easier, instead of a sixth sense. Tae had it, the only one in their group. (Kinda makes them ineffective as a unit, but tell that to whoever put them together.)

He opens the door, Youngjae behind him. The immediate chill is a...good sign.

He takes a few cautious steps in, pulling out his flashlight, and stops.

“...Did it fucking _shed_?” Jimin murmurs. Youngjae peeks above his shoulder, and nearly gags.

It’s a body of an older woman, split down the middle, open.

“I wonder what hell this leads to.” He says to no one in particular. Youngjae makes a non-commital noise, a hand on his arm as they take a few more steps.

“I thought rifts weren’t supposed to _leave_ anything.” Youngjae groans. “Hyung-“ Oh, that’s new!

“Did you call me hyung?” He whips around, gasping.

The younger gapes. “Is now the _time_?”

“Fear makes you clingy. Got it. Hold on.” He holds his arm out. Youngjae grabs begrudgingly. “The dining area looks clear. Maybe it’s in the back.”

“Why aren’t there ever any rifts to a Heaven? Or some place without creepy skin-sheddy thingies.” He sounds so juvenile. It’s kind of cute.

Jimin shrugs, rounding the corner, to what seems like a back office. The door isn’t locked, he finds out, by kicking the door open. There’s shuffling, and then there’s what they’re looking for.

“I think the opening bound to that safe.” He’s not one hundred percent, but Youngjae seems to agree with him. He sends a message off to Tae, and-

 

//

 

Jaebum’s not sure how to react, as Jinyoung literally coughs up a feather. He stares for a good minute or two.

Jinyoung has this unbreakable frown.

Jackson stares, wide-eyed, and. “Does that fucking hurt?”

There’s that unexplainable feeling of anxiety and worry.“You need a doctor...”

His frown grows deeper, voice snapping. “Oh, yeah? Who would you suggest?” He looks to him. He’s tired, he must be so tired. And...scared? Maybe that’s why he’s lashing out.

“Jinyoung-ah—,” He tries.

It only makes him more upset. “I’m sick of this. Why am I even here? I’m leaving.” He stands so abruptly, he stumbles. And as he takes a step, Jackson reaches out, and pulls him down. He ends up falling backwards onto his lap.

Jackson is instantly embarrassed. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to-!“

Jinyoung stares blankly ahead, eyes then locking with Jaebum’s. His hair covers most of his gaze, but he’s either insanely embarrassed, or even more upset. (His ears are very red, so he’s leaning towards the first option.)

“You two make a cute couple,” It’s meant to be playful, lighten the mood but Jinyoung’s eyes widen, and he nearly falls to the floor (again) scrambling out of Jackson’s grasp. He stands to go around Jaebum, but he grabs his arm, frowning as he winces. “Sorry-did that hurt?” He apologizes quickly. Jinyoung just looks up at him, breath catching.

Jackson’s got the same expression too, pressing his hands to his cheeks to hide the redness. He makes this adorable squeaking sound.

Jaebum can’t look away, and Jinyoung doesn’t, his mouth opening slightly to whisper after licking his (perfect) lips. The significance is not lost on him. “It’s not fair,”

Jaebum tilts his head, not quite getting it. “What do you me-“ Jinyoung places a hand on his chest, keeping eye contact, pushing him backwards until he fell on the couch. Jinyoung climbs onto his lap, hand still pressing against his bruises. Jackson gapes. Jaebum’s brain fizzles out for the time being. 

“Seun-ah, it’s not fair right?” He looks to him. Jackson gulps.

“H-huh?”

“Hyung embarrassing us...it’s so cruel, isn’t it?” He leans forward to whisper it in his ear, lips dragging along the earlobe, lingering on the point, but still loud enough for Jackson to hear.“Seun-ah, I’d love to give him a taste of his own medicine...” 

Jackson looks from Jaebum, to Jinyoung, to Jaebum to-his skin feels so hot right now. Jackson considers himself pretty collected, excited when he wants to be, but this...escalated quickly? 

"This okay?" Jinyoung mutters, drawing a hand along his cheek. Jaebum manages to nod,

Jinyoung rips his eyes off of Jaebum, to watch Jackson again. He has a delightfully evil grin that doesn’t quite match his soft bright eyes, but effective, nonetheless. He’s playing as well, but there is a degree of seriousness to it, adjusting himself and reaching out a hand to Jackson. Jaebum shakes his head quickly, shaking out of whatever trance he was in, eyes following Jinyoung’s hand to locking eyes with Jackson. 

He thinks Jinyoung already won, judging by that expression. It didn’t take much—it didn’t even take _him_ , just the suggestion, and the (now) usual Jinyoung attitude. He _cannot_ wrap his head around this guy. Jaebum’s having an even harder time, his leg beginning to bounce anxiously. All it takes is the angel gently placing a hand on his upper inside thigh to get him to stop, though. Lust was like, his thing tho, right? Must suck to suck, because he’s nearly drooling. 

They fit well together, just sitting there, though they’re kind of inverted opposites. Jinyoung with his slick, still wet black hair hanging in his face is much more fiendish than Jaebum staring up at him, confused, flustered, even with his mouth hanging open the slightest bit, showing off his sharp teeth. 

Jinyoung smiles wider, apparently whatever what he wanted to prove, proven. He relaxes, but doesn’t move just kind of resting his head against Jaebum’s, playing with the demon’s collar. “Have you ever kissed him?”

“Of _course_ not.” He manages. He’s not playing the jealous (ex)boyfriend game, today. For all he knows, he’s just trying to- 

“Hyung, you give him a taste...then me.” He mutters against his lips, dragging a hand along Jaebum’s jawline, showing off the demon. “Jaebum-hyung is the _best_ kisser.”

“Oh my God.” Jaebum sputters, 

“Oh, you have a god now?” Jinyoung asks.  

He doesn’t reply. Jaebum looks to him, hoping for an escape, but. “Wait a sec, Jackson, are you alright?” He sits up, leaning to him,

Jinyoung turns his head as well, then blinking in surprise. “You’re crying...?” 


End file.
